


Love Comes Tumbling Down

by nessismore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Baseball, F/M, Fluff, Insecurity, Secret Relationship, Tumblr Prompt, Undercover Missions, Valentine's Day, this list will grow the more i post
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-28 11:50:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 24,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nessismore/pseuds/nessismore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(mostly) Darcy/Steve ficlets I've written on tumblr/for tumblr prompts.<br/> <br/><i>kiss, kiss</i> -- Darcy, Steve, a baseball game, and the kiss cam</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. calendar girl

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the Matt Nathanson song of the same name, chosen mostly because I wanted to use something that had "tumbling" in it. Because...tumblr. Yeah.
> 
> These are mostly Darcy/Steve, but if it's not, it'll be indicated in the chapter title!

 

 

For [melifair's](http://melifair.tumblr.com/) awesome graphic [here](http://melifair.tumblr.com/post/40570091631/darcy-steve-vintage-again-after-seeing-the).

* * *

“This better be for charity and  _not_  your own personal spank bank, Stark,” Darcy calls out from behind the makeshift dressing room for the calendar models.

Tony does an abysmal job of acting affronted. “Would I do that?”  
  
“Probably,” Steve says dryly, sitting between Tony and Clint.  
  
“I’ll have you know that a calendar was Pepper’s idea.”  
  
Darcy laughs. “Yes, and the swimsuit theme was all yours.”   
  
“Pepper also acknowledged that this would sell better than the puppies you all wanted.”  
  
“Excuse you, everybody  _loves_ puppies.” She steps out from behind the curtained area, and strikes a pose. “How do I look?”  
  
There’s a moment of silence as the men (and the photographer, hovering discreetly in the background) stare at her, taking in the red, white, and blue one piece. Then Tony let’s out a low wolf-whistle.  
  
“I’ll let you know when I can roll my tongue back into my mouth,” Clint says meaningfully.  
  
Tony nods. “Suddenly, I’m feeling very patriotic.” Darcy grins and gives them a saucy wink before she looks at Steve expectantly.  
  
He hasn’t taken his eyes off her. “You look absolutely beautiful, Miss July,” he says solemnly.  
  
She sighs happily, then saunters over to lean down and give him a long, slow kiss. “I love when you look at me like that.”  
  
“Get a room, kids,” Tony grumbles. He raises his eyebrows at Steve, who still has his hands firmly on Darcy’s hips. “I suppose you’ll want us to leave. Thou shalt not look upon your woman, and all of that.”  
  
Steve shrugs. “I don’t mind if she doesn’t.”  
  
Darcy looks at Steve, then at Tony and Clint. “I’m going to be in a swimsuit calendar, so whatevs.”  
  
“You really don’t mind if we ogle your girl?” Clint teases.  
  
“Whatever she’s comfortable with,” Steve says. Then he smirks. “Besides, why get upset when I’m the only one she lets touch?”  
  
Darcy laughs. The photographer calls for her and she swings her hips as she heads over to the Captain America backdrop in front of the camera. “Stick around, Captain, and maybe I’ll let you do some touching later.”

 


	2. smile...we're going to prague

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> melifair prompted: 
> 
> Can you fic Steve in his Cap uniform doing a goofy dance for Darcy to cheer her up (totally inspired by the goofy GIF of him with the parachute haha)

Darcy had been kidnapped. Oh sure, Coulson preferred to think of it as a “commandeering of her knowledge,” but there was no mistaking the fact that she’d been forcibly detained and was now sitting on a jet on her way across the Atlantic after spending an hour answering questions about an old high school classmate who’d apparently turned into evil genius. She’d been surprised, if only because that was the superlative she’d been voted for their senior year. He’d been voted Most Likely to Be Fired For Looking Up Porn at Work.

Coulson did not seem overly impressed by this information, but Steve had snorted before covering his mouth to hide a grin. She’d been able to tell them about an ex-boyfriend of his who’d had a house in Prague, so that’s where they were heading. Now with the interrogation over, Coulson was ignoring her while talking to Natasha about where they needed to land, while Bruce and Tony were geeking out over something shiny did made something go boom, and Clint and Thor were exchanging increasingly bloody war stories.

Only Steve paid her any attention as he tried to get her to smile. She tried to shoo him away. “Go away, Steve. I’m in no mood for your brand of adorable.”

“Come on, Darcy. Smile,” he cajoled. “You said you’ve always wanted to see Europe, right?”

“Yes. On vacation. Not while stuck on a plane with Agent Fanboy while my best friend and his friends jump out of a plane and try to detain an evil genius.”

“Well, think of all the ways you can annoy Coulson while you’re waiting for us. That’s gotta make you smile, right?”

“Steve, sweetie, nothing is going to make me smile right now.”

He grinned at her and stood, and before she had time to wonder what he was up to, he was moving his hips and waving his arms in a ridiculous looking dance that made the corners of her lips tick upwards. “Made you smile,” he said, still wiggling around. A surge of warmth filled her at that, and it mingled with the nerves that always came when the Avengers went on a mission.

“That was hardly a smile. Get back in one piece and I’ll show you a real one.”


	3. lewis is missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony thinks that Darcy is missing, but Steve knows exactly where she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For merideath, who prompted "Secret relationship that the team accidentally finds out about."

Steve woke up and stretched, reveling in the feel of his own bed after a week away. He could hear Darcy in the shower. He’d missed her more than he’d missed the bed, and he could still feel the warmth of her where she’d slept next to him. He smiled and was debating joining her in the shower when he heard the doorbell. Repeatedly. It sounded like someone was leaning on it, and he wasn’t going away. Steve groaned and finally rolled out of bed.

 

He threw on a pair of pants and hurried to the door. “What?” he said in annoyance when he saw a frowning Tony at the door.

 

“We gotta go. Lewis is missing.”

 

Steve froze. Of course he knew exactly where Darcy was, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to tell Tony or any of the rest of them. They’d both decided to try to keep their relationship as low key as possible, because their friends were well intentioned, but they were prone to sticking their nose in other peoples’ business. Not to mention, it was nice having something that was just…theirs. 

 

“How do you know she’s missing?” he asked carefully. The shower was still running, and maybe he could get Tony out of here before Darcy finished…

 

“Pep and Jane were worried when she didn’t show up for their girls’ night or whatever it is they call it, and Darcy hasn’t been answering her phone. She’s not at her apartment, either, so they’ve assembled the Avengers to look for her.”

 

Steve smiled. “Are they allowed to do that?”

 

“That’s not important right now. No one can find Lewis, so let’s go.” Tony turned and took two steps down the hall before turning again when Steve didn’t follow. Instead, Steve squared his shoulders in the doorway when he heard the shower stop. Tony looked at him suspiciously. “How are you not more concerned? I thought you had a soft spot for the squirt.”

 

Steve was trying to think of an answer when he heard the bathroom door open. He felt a perverse sense of satisfaction when Tony’s jaw dropped as he saw Darcy. He turned to look at her. She was wearing his robe around her and was toweling off her hair. “Steve, do you know if I put my purple sweater in the closet? I know I said we wouldn’t be needing clothes today, but—oh.”. It took a moment before she realized that Steve was standing at the door. She gasped when she saw Tony and pulled the lapels of the robe closed. “What’s Tony doing here?”

 

Steve grinned at her, and Tony took that opportunity to push his way into the apartment. Steve rolled his eyes and shut the door before he walked over to her and chucked her under chin. “You’re missing.” 

 

Darcy’s lips turned up, and she gave him that mischievous look that he liked so much. “I am?”

 

“Yes,” Tony interjected, still staring at them in fascination, “but it looks like Cap found you.”

 

Darcy grimaced. “Should I even bother trying to say that I was just in the neighborhood?” Tony grinned and shook his head. She sighed. “I forgot to call Jane and Pepper, didn’t I?”

 

Tony’s grin got even bigger. “You did, but I can see that you were…distracted. How long has this been going on?”

 

“A few months,” Darcy said evasively, apparently still not ready to relinquish all of their secrets, and he leaned over and placed a soft kiss to her wet hair. She smiled up at him, and his heart flipped. She slipped her hand into his, “Well, a year. Next week.”

 

Tony gaped. “Seriously?”

 

“Seriously.” Steve smiled.

 

“And you two are serious?”

 

Darcy nodded. “Of the deadest kind.”

 

“And am I the last to know?” He sounded so disgruntled that Steve laughed.

 

“No one else knows. At least, not for sure.”

 

Tony perked up considerably. He looked at  Darcy. “I just have one more question. Lewis, are you naked under there?”

 

Darcy rolled her eyes. “One generally doesn’t shower clothed, Tony.”

 

“So can we—“ 

 

“Out,” Steve commanded. Darcy laughed. Tony grumbled, but he went. Darcy stood on tiptoe and kissed his jaw.

 

“Looks like that cat’s out of the bag,” she said with a grin.

 

“Do you mind?” he asked seriously. She smiled up at him and undid the knot holding the robe closed.

 

“No.” And there were no more questions after that.


	4. captain dumbass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve knows that he's the one who broke up with her, but he's not quite prepared for the sucker punch that comes with someone else asking her out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For dopemixtape/katertots' prompt: fight/temporary breakup

Steve’s on his way to Bruce’s lab when he hears her voice and stumbles to a halt. It’s been a few weeks since their breakup, but he still needs to collect himself before he sees her. He takes the time to hide away his rampant emotions, to compose a carefully blank expression on his face because the breakup is for the best. If it hurts this much now, he reminds himself, how much more would breaking up hurt months down the road when she’d entrenched herself even more deeply into his heart than she is now? 

And he’s sure that eventually she’d have ended things. Maybe not anytime soon, but eventually she’s bound to want—and find—someone better, someone whose job doesn’t put them in constant danger, who gets her jokes better than he does, who can give her a normal life. 

He takes a deep breath and rounds the corner just in time to hear the SHIELD employee—Steve thinks he’s from the accounting department—that she’s walking with ask her on a date.

He freezes and he must have made some kind of noise because they both look up at him. His carefully constructed composure shatters. He knows his distress is written all over his face, but he can’t do a damn thing to call it back. He’d let her go, but he hadn’t really understood what the reality of that would be.

Darcy looks from her companion then back to him, and for the first time, he realizes can’t read the expression on her face. He tries to steel himself for the inevitable acceptance even though he knows it’ll hurt like hell. Instead, she shakes her head and tells the kid she’s sorry. The kid stammers an apology and hurries away, and Darcy stands there, looking at Steve.

She waits, like she’s expecting him to say something and Steve knows it’s an opportunity to say he’s sorry, to ask for forgiveness, to ask her to take him back. But he stands there, frozen by uncertainty. She gets tired of waiting and shoots him a disgusted look before she storms away muttering, “I should have said yes.”

Steve sighs and rubs his hands over his face as he realizes that Tony’s Captain Dumbass nickname is apt after all.


	5. do you want to know a secret?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, but really, Tony wants to know...who is that girl?

The big bad has been vanquished, and Tony watches as Steve dispatches with the last of its minions. They can all power down, so to speak. The building before them maybe has a few more holes in it than it used to, but it’s still standing and the police and firefighters should be able to handle rescue and recovery if it’s necessary. The Hulk has already turned back into Bruce and is waiting on the jet with Natasha and Thor, while Clint is picking up his remaining arrows. Tony takes off his helmet and turns to try and convince Steve that they really should try Shawarma again when he realizes that Cap is bolting to the building. Tony sighs and goes after him. He has to fly to catch up.  

He grabs hold of Steve’s arm and says, “ Our work here is done. Let the cops handle this stuff.” But Steve shakes him off and Tony tries to stop him again, because if Cap goes in to help, then Tony’ll feel like a tool for not going in, too, but he just really wants to go home, grab lunch, and maybe a cuddle with Pepper. As soon as Tony touches Steve, he gets a fist of America straight to the face, and it’s enough to knock him off his feet. He guesses Cap pulled his punch, because at least he’s still conscious. 

He scrambles to his feet and calls Natasha. “Guys, it looks like we’ve got a situation,” he says before he follows Steve into the building. Cap’s got a head start, but he’s not at all hard to find because Tony can hear him yelling a woman’s name. Tony hadn’t even realized that Steve _knew_ anyone outside of the Tower and S.H.I.E.L.D.,  but everything about this situation Is bizarre. Tony manages to catch up with him and follows him to third floor, and Steve’s still shouting in a very un-Caplike manner.

“Rogers, what are you—?” Tony’s question is interrupted when an office door bursts open and a pretty, if disheveled, brunette comes running out and throws her arms around Steve. 

“Thank God,” Steve murmurs, and he wraps his arms around her and lifts her off her feet, which makes Tony think of every romantic drama that he’s ever subjected Pepper to. Tony doesn’t think the embrace looks at all comfortable because he’s pretty sure as tight as Steve’s holding her, she can’t possibly be able to breathe. And then her lips are suctioned to Steve’s. Apparently breathing is not currently a priority for either of them.

He knows that at least one of the team is beside him and he turns to look. Clint’s mouth is actually hanging open, and Tony has to check to make sure that his isn’t doing the same.

Eventually they come up for air. Cap’s forehead is touching hers, and they’re separated by the minimal space required to still be considered two separate being.  “When I realized what building we were at, I thought they’d made it in here—“

“They did,” the woman says and Tony can see her lips curve into a grin. “But we handled it. After all, I learned from the best.”

“I’m glad I taught you something—“

The woman laughs and nips at Steve’s lips. “I was talking about Natasha.” And Steve chuckles and kisses her again.

Natasha knew about this woman? Tony turns around to see Natasha, Thor, and Bruce coming up behind them. He glares at her. “You! You knew about Cap’s girlfriend?”

Natasha gives him that smile that says he’s not going to learn anything from her, while Thor is looking puzzled. “Lady Darcy?”

“Thor? _You_ know Cap’s girlfriend?” Finally the lovebirds separate—their faces, at least. The woman—Darcy, apparently—is tucked against Steve’s side and she’s grinning. So is Steve.

“Darcy isn’t my girlfriend.”

Darcy smiles up at Steve. “It’s true. I’m not.”

Thor’s expression morphs from confused to murderous in the blink of an eye. “Are you toying with Lady Darcy’s affections?”

If anything, Steve’s grin gets even bigger. “Tony, Thor, Clint, Bruce…I’d like you to meet my wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for merideath, who thought I should write the secretly married fic, too.


	6. in a sentimental mood (darcy/bucky au)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Darcy/Bucky appears! 
> 
> AU -- As Bucky leaves for the war, Darcy and Steve want to see him off right.

[dopemixtape](http://dopemixtape.tumblr.com/) prompted darcy/bucky au based on [this photo](http://the-yellow-ranger.tumblr.com/post/42719316100)

\---

 

Bucky looks out the window at the crying families and friends giving their loved ones one last hug, one last kiss. There’s no one out there for him. He asked them not to come. He’d said his goodbyes to Steve last night, over dinner, and to Darcy through the night. He didn’t want to force Steve to come out and see all the people going off to do what he so desperately wanted. He didn’t want to make Darcy be one of those crying girls at the platform, waving their handkerchiefs as the train rolled away. No, it’s easier for both of them this way.

Which is why he’s surprised to see Darcy pushing her way to the front of the crowd, Steve in tow. “Bucky!” she’s shouting, searching the windows for his face. “Bucky!”

He leaps to his feet and thrusts his head out the open window. They reach his window, and they’re both breathless. “Darcy? Steve? I thought I told you to stay home today.” He’s shouting to be heard over all of the other people on the platform. The only things that matter right now are Steve and Darcy.

“It was his idea,” Darcy says, and she looks impossibly beautiful all dolled up, lips red and a flower in her hair.

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Since when have I ever done what you told me to do?” And Bucky laughs, because it’s true. “Besides, Darcy was worried that maybe you had some other girl you were saying goodbye to today.”

Bucky looks at Darcy, who’s shaking her head. “You know there’s only you, dollface.”

“Right back at you, handsome,” she says with a saucy grin. She blows him a kiss, and he pretends to catch it, which makes her laugh. “Besides, Steve wanted to come. He said he wanted you to have a pretty face to look at while the train was pulling away. And then he was nice enough to let me come along.” Steve nudges Darcy and she nudges him back, and he knows they’re trying so hard not to show him how hard this is for them. Bucky grins and he realizes how happy he really is that they decided to ignore him and come see him off anyway. 

Steve isn’t sulking, but he knows how hard it is for him to see all the soldiers in their uniforms, off to fight for what they knows is right. He knows it kills Steve to be left behind in this, but for Bucky, it hurts just as much to do the leaving. On the one hand, he believes so strongly in what he’s going to be fighting for. He even looks forward to the adventure and danger of it. But he wishes Steve could come with him. This is one adventure they can’t go on together.

The conductor shouts, “All aboard!” and Bucky looks at Darcy, whose eyes are shining with unshed tears.

“No crying, doll,” he says and she responds with a watery smile.

“Who’s crying? Just get home in one piece, Barnes. Otherwise, I might have to trade you in for your scrawny friend over here.”

He looks at the two most important people in his world, and tears sting his eyes. “One piece,” he vows with a firm nod. The whistle on the train sounds and Darcy looks down, dabbing at her eyes. He wants to ask Steve to take care of her, just in case, but he knows she’d hate it. And he knows that his friend will do it anyway. 

“Take care of yourself, or I’ll come back and kick your ass,” he tells Steve, who gives him a crooked grin.

“You, too, or I’ll have Darcy kick yours.”

He looks at his girl, who’s trying so hard not to cry. He wishes he had the chance to give her one last kiss, and like she’s reading his mind, she steps closer and kisses her fingertips and reaches towards him. He does the same and stretches to touch his fingers to hers. He holds her for a moment, and then the train starts moving. His breath hitches as their fingers release, and he waves to his best friend and his best girl. Darcy loops her arm around Steve’s, and they lean into each other for comfort as they wave back madly. He leans out and watches them for as long as he can, and then they’re gone, and he’s gone, and he feels lonely and excited and nervous and scared.

He reaches into his pocket for the locket that Darcy had given him last night and opens it to see the miniatures that Steve drew. His best friend and his best girl stare back at him, and he’s determined that he’ll be back.

He hears Darcy’s voice whisper in his head, “In one piece.” It’s a hard promise to think of when he knows he left the two best pieces of himself behind.

 


	7. i don't see how that's a valentine's date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now back to your regularly scheduled Darcy/Steve program...
> 
> This is not how Darcy had thought she'd been spending Valentine's Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I asked for Valentine's Day story suggestions, and I couldn't pick one, so I'm going to try to write them all!
> 
> eyebrowsofjustice suggested "They’re on an undercover assignment together somewhere? Not supposed to know each other?" and it was seconded by merideath :p

Darcy saunters through the room beside an absolutely gorgeous man. He’s got his hand around her waist and leaning in much closer than necessary when he talks to her, and while it would probably make most women swoon, she’s trying not to gag. Because Henri Dupont is a disgusting rat bastard, and she’ll have to scrub straight to the bone to get rid of the taint of him. 

He’s trying to impress her by discussing all of the numerous projects he’s working on for “world leaders” and “free thinkers” which is probably code word for dictators and evil geniuses. She doesn’t care about them—not right now. She just needs to get enough of his voice so that Clint and Natasha can open the voice activated safe and get the science-y thing that’s essential for the dangerous weapon thingy. Yes, Darcy’s a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent now, and she knows the proper names for these things and what they look like, but it’s still all very confusing and not her part of the mission so it’s less important to her. She makes a note to ask to switch with Natasha next time, because if Dupont keeps “accidentally” touching her boobs, she’s going to throw him across the room faster than you can say “Think of the mission.”

When she has to respond, she tries to infuse her tone with the ennui that is such a hallmark for people of his ilk while trying  _not_ to glare at the gorgeous blonde and the handsome man guiding her through the room. The other couple approaches and stops in front of Darcy and her date.

“Stella, my dove, I’d like you to meet my associate, Miranda Palmer. Miranda, this is Stella Richmond.” 

“Charmed,” Miranda says with a sickly sweet smile as she clings to her own date’s arm.

Darcy returns the smile full measure. With teeth. “Likewise.” Neither woman extends a hand to shake.

“Miranda, will you not introduce us to your friend?” Henri says after an extended silence. Miranda practically preens, and Darcy wants to rip her head off as the other woman strokes her date’s arm.

“Of course. This is Darren Long," and the way she lingers on his last name makes it sound uncomfortably suggestive. "Darren, Henri.” Miranda is flush against “Darren” now, and Darcy has to look Steve straight in the eye and pretend that she doesn’t spend every night sleeping on top of him. And that she doesn’t want to claw this woman’s eyes out because they need them. She thinks she does an okay job. Steve’s supposed to be getting a scan of her eye for the retinal scan, but all he’s gotten thus far is groped. It would almost be funny if he weren’t her boyfriend.

The couples chat for a bit, and it becomes clear that there is a not-so-friendly rivalry between Henri and Miranda. They speak in veiled insults and scathing observations, and in their bid to one-up each other, Miranda and Henri drop some interesting tidbits that Darcy is sure that S.H.I.E.L.D. will be happy to know.

Steve happens to look down as Dupont takes another grab of her boob, and his expression tightens. She lifts her eyebrow slightly, a signal to stand down, and for the first time she really appreciates why Clint and Natasha have developed their own little brand of eyebrow conversation. 

Eventually, Henri moves them along, and his hand slides down to Darcy’s butt as he steers her towards another guest of Great Importance. Darcy refrains from gritting her teeth, but she hopes that Steve can get the damned scan soon before she impales this guy with her high heels. And then where would the mission be?

—

The mission is up shit creek.

Well, not completely. Natasha’s got the science-y thing, which means the bad guys don’t, but something happened and an alarm was tripped, and now Clint and Natasha are retreating from one end while Darcy and Steve are heading out the other under a hail of bullets. They’re barricaded behind a stone wall in the garden and Steve’s looking for a way out while Darcy covers him. Which is kind of a terrible idea because she barely passed her firearms test, but he’s taller and he’s got more experience planning exit routes. So.

“Well, this part of the evening is significantly better than the first,” he says conversationally as she returns fire.

They duck down as a volley of shots comes their way, and she looks at him dubiously. “How is being shot at better than being eating canapés and  _not_ getting shot at?”

“Well, for one thing, I don’t have to watch Dupont put his grubby paws all over you,” he says, leaning over to give her a quick kiss. “And I don’t have to deal with that woman trying to grope my…”

Darcy grins as his voice trails off. “Package?” she supplies helpfully, and they’re long past the point where he blushes when they talk about sex parts.

Instead, he gives her a repressive glare as the shots from the other side continue. “Yes. You’re the only one who gets to open that.

“As long as I get to open it tonight, I guess this Valentine’s Day won’t completely suck.”

It’s his turn to smile. “What? We had a fancy dinner, went dancing, and now we’ve got fireworks. How’s that not romantic?” He points to the shrub in behind them that’s sprinkled with tiny blossoms. “I even got you flowers.”

Darcy rolls her eyes, then pops back up to return fire. “Next year, Rogers, we’re not double dating with Clint and Natasha again.”


	8. i'm fond(ue) of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve is surprised by his Valentine's gift to Darcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ask-doktor-marceline prompted: chocolate and strawberries  
> This is more the chocolate (and ridiculouslness) and less the strawberries, but I hope you enjoy!

“Darcy?” Steve said quietly as he opened the front door and set his bag down. It was late, but his girl was a night owl, and he’d hoped she’d be awake. He hadn’t seen her two weeks and he was missing her something fierce. “I’m home.”

He closed the door and secured the lock, and the second he turned around, he was knocked against the door and found himself with an armful of soft, warm woman. He smiled as Darcy locked her arms around his neck and hitched up her legs up around his hips. He held her close against him, and his hands tightened on warm, red silk. She speared her fingers through his hair and kissed him breathless.  

When she finally let him up for air, he finally let himself relax into the comforting sensation of being home. 

Darcy rubbed her nose against his and slid down his body, eliciting a strangled groan from Steve. “Hey, hot stuff. Welcome back.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, his lips following hers when she moved to break away, and he turned so she was pinned against the door. She sighed happily, then slowly she pushed him towards the couch, where she gave him a proper welcome home.

Later, they were cuddled on the couch. Darcy was a warm, pleasant weight on top of him. She rested her chin on his chest. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He twirled a lock of her hair around his fingers. “I’m just sorry I missed it.”

“That’s okay. I got a pretty awesome gift from my super hot boyfriend.”

“Oh?” He sat up, laughing when she squealed and clung to his neck. He settled on the center cushion and Darcy straddled his lap. “And what did your super hot boyfriend give you?” Darcy nipped at his ear, then gestured to something beside the TV. He’d become more interested in trailing kisses along her neck, and she bracketed his face with her hands and forced him to look. That certainly distracted him. “Why is there a life-size statue of Captain America in our living room?”

Darcy grinned. “The card says it was from you. It’s made of chocolate. The statue. Not the card.” He stared in shocked fascination at the behemoth carved in chocolate, complete with shield, and striking a heroic pose. It was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever seen. He didn’t remember having sent that. Actually, he would  _never_ have sent that—

“Oh no,” he groaned and pressed his face into the crook of her neck. His shoulders shook with horrified laughter. “I asked Tony to ask JARVIS to send you a present, just in case we didn’t get back in time for Valentine’s Day. I said flowers and this bracelet I’d seen you looking at, and I guess this was Tony’s interpretation of that..I’m sorry.”

“Well, it certainly is impressive. And I guess that explains why choco Cap was wearing a bracelet.” She held up her arm so that he could admire the silver bracelet on her wrist. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice it before.”

He traced his fingers down the soft skin of her back, making her shiver. “I was a little distracted. Is it solid?”

“The bracelet?”

Steve chuckled. “The…choco Cap.”

“As your abs. I know. I already took a bite out of him.” She slid him a sly smile. “But I won’t tell you where.” 

He looked at the chocolate statue, intrigued. Then he looked back at her. “What do we do with it?”

“Well, I bought some strawberries this morning, and I figured we could melt at least some of you down and have some dessert. Then it would feel all romantic and Valentines-y.”

He glanced at the statue dubiously. “I don’t know how I’d feel about eating part of myself.”

“Well,” Darcy said, leaning in. Her teeth tugged at his lower lip, “How would you feel about licking yourself off of me?”

In answer, he stood, still holding her, and carried her to the kitchen.


	9. a kiss to hang a dream on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy works a kissing booth, Steve works up courage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's pretend they're not in New York and that they're somewhere where it's warm for Valentine's day.

“Is that Lewis in the kissing booth?” Tony looks up from where he’s grilling burgers to see Clint strolling up, pointing at the booth. 

“Yeah,” he says, looking at Darcy, who’s standing in a stall and hugging a giggling toddler as she places a kiss on his chubby cheeks. It’s sickeningly cute. “The model caught mono, of all things. Darcy stepped in at the last minute.”

Clint grins. “She’s working up quite a line. Where’s Cap?”

Tony flips a burger and gestures in Darcy’s general direction with the spatula. “Hovering somewhere in the background. Glowering at hapless men and teenage boys. Managed to scare one or two of them off. It’s been the most hilarious part of my day.”

Clint raises his eyebrows. “And has Cap plunked down some cash for a taste of Miss Lewis?”

“He looks like he’s trying to work up the courage.” Tony looks up and he and Clint watch as Steve appears among the crowd between the two kissing booths. He looks like he’s muttering to himself and he steps into Darcy’s line, then steps back out before almost running over an old lady with a walker.

“Poor bastard,” Clint says, shaking his head. “Let’s go watch.”

Tony tosses his spatula off to a passing SHIELD agent, and with an admonishment to “not burn the burgers!” he follow Clint to go laugh at Cap.

—

He watches her smile down at the eight year-old wearing a Captain America shirt, and his heart flip flops the way it always does when he’s around her. Her hair is up in a loose ponytail that hangs over her right shoulder, and she’s traded her baggy sweaters for a baggy pink t-shirt with the children’s hospital’s logo on the front and “Be My Valentine” emblazoned on the back. She’s beautiful, and he knows he’s not the only one who’s noticed.

This is a charity event, mostly for kids—both patients at the hospital and children from around the neighborhood—and most of the people lining up for kisses at the kissing booths are children and their parents. There are a few teenage boys in line who are blushing and nudging each other, but the most worrying thing for him are the SHIELD agents lining up and smiling slyly at Darcy. He tries not to think about how he’d like to punch them, even if she only gives them chaste, closed-mouth kisses or kisses on the cheek like she does with everyone else.

He’s spent the last half hour trying to decide if he’s going to get in line or not, and he knows that Tony and Clint have been watching him for at least ten minutes, maybe more. Natasha joined them at some point, and so did Bruce, and now Steve’s sure it’s only a matter of minutes before Thor shows up.

They all love a good humiliating situation, especially at his expense, and they all know Steve wants to kiss Darcy. Heck, everyone with eyes probably knows he wants to kiss Darcy, except maybe Darcy herself.

It would be funny, if it weren’t so pathetic. 

Deciding to just get in line and kiss her until the world spins before asking her to be his girl, he takes a step forward. Then he takes a step back, because he’s changed his mind. Again. He thinks he hears Clint snicker.  

He hashes through his inner arguments again. Part of him wants his first kiss with Darcy to be special, for her to kiss him because she wants to and not because he paid for it. On the other hand, if Darcy isn’t interested, at least he’d have this memory of her lips on his. 

This is stupid. He is stupid.

He looks up again and sees Darcy talking to a little girl in a hushed whisper. She pulls something out of her pocket, the little girl smiles, nods, and Darcy begins closing up the booth because apparently her shift is almost done for the day. She shoos the line away with a wink and a smile, telling them that the next person will be there in fifteen minutes. His shoulders slump, because apparently he’s missed his chance. There’s a tug at his sleeve, and he turns to see a little girl beaming up at him. 

“The nice lady told me to give this to you,” she says. She gives him the thing clutched tightly in her hand. It’s a dollar. “She said to use it.” And the little girl skips away. Steve looks at the dollar then looks at Darcy, whose brows were raised in faint challenge.

He heads towards the booth and Darcy leans against the front. “‘Bout time. What can I get you, soldier?” she asks, and he stares at her a moment because he isn’t sure what to say. He can hear Clint and Tony groaning in the background. After a moment or two passes, Darcy rolls her eyes. 

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she grumbles, and grabs the collar of his shirt and slams her lips onto his. Their teeth clack and their noses knock until she shifts her head slightly to the right and then it’s perfect—soft lips, searching tongues, mingled breathes. When they finally come up for air, her hands are still fisted in his shirt, and his hands are anchored firmly on her waist. In the background, he can hear the other Avengers cheering.


	10. naked neighbors (darcy/bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's absolutely not her fault that her neighbor likes to walk around his house naked with his shades open.

based on [this post ](http://melifair.tumblr.com/post/43624941857/guys-there-is-actually-a-website-that-complements-you)from [melifair](melifair.tumblr.com); a kind of continuation of [this post](http://the-yellow-ranger.tumblr.com/post/42732096026/darcy-takes-off-her-sunglasses-and-watches-her-new)

\---

 

She’s not perving. She really isn’t perving. It’s absolutely not her fault that her neighbor likes to walk around his house naked. And it’s definitely not her fault that his shades and her shades happen to be open simultaneously while he’s doing this. And it is clearly not her fault that her favorite seat from her kitchen table happens to have a perfect view into  _his_ kitchen where her naked neighbor just happens to be drinking milk out of the carton. Normally she’d find that totally gross—the ex-boyfriend three bad relationships ago did that and it drove her nuts. The only thing driving her nuts now, though, is the little trickle of milk running over her neighbor's chiseled jaw and down his incredibly sexy neck. She’d like to lick it off him, and just run her tongue all over—no.

Bad Darcy. She is so not letting herself go there, because she does not need a relationship or a fuck buddy right now, and thinking about licking her neighbor can only lead to sexual frustration, which will inevitably lead to questionable decisions. Or lots of tequila, which will then lead to questionable decisions. Either way, her judgement will be impaired and it will not be pretty. Besides, it’s never a good idea to date this close to home. She’d done that freshman year with a guy who lived in her dorm, and after it ended, it was awkward for everyone involved.

Still, her neighbor is fucking gorgeous. She knows that some women would find the metal arm a turn off, but then they’d be missing out on the truly magnificent morning wood this guy is sporting. It’s big and thick, but it’s not freakish and she wonders how it’d feel—no. She’s still totally not going there.

She drains the last of her coffee, and she tells herself that she’s licking her lips to savor the remnants of her morning drink. It’s  _not_ because her neighbor just flexed his very spectacular ass. 

Darcy groans. She needs to go before she does something supremely stupid. She’s already late for work.

—

Darcy’s running late. Again. And it’s not even because she’s ogling her neighbor. No, she’s late because Jane was over until three that morning, talking about something sciencey until Darcy’s eyes glazed over. Now she’s quite possibly going to miss a meeting and Pepper might quite possibly kill her, and damn it, she just spilled crap all over the dress she was going to wear to work.

She’s looking for stain release spray when she remembers she might have left it in the kitchen, and she runs over and bends over to check the cabinet under the kitchen sink when her phone rings. She gropes for the phone on the counter—her parents insist that she keep a land line—snaps out a quick, “What?”

“Now is that any way to greet your neighbor?” 

Darcy freezes, work all but forgotten because God, his voice is sexy as he is. “How’d you get my number?” 

“You’re listed.” Huh. She’d thought she wasn’t. 

“What can I help you with this morning?” she asks as she continues looking for her stain spray.

His chuckle comes over the line, low and hot, and she just really wants to jump his bones. She tries to concentrate on what he’s saying. “I just wanted to say thanks for returning the favor.” 

Her head comes up so fast she hits it agains the top of the cabinet. She scrambles to her feet. “What?” 

“Turn around.” She does, and there’s her naked neighbor, his phone caught between his shoulder and his ear. He’s taking a sip of coffee and waving at her. She dumbly waves back. Well, this is somewhat mortifying. Because now she remembers that in her rush, she hadn’t yet put on her underwear. And from his vantage point, he probably had a Grade A view of her ass. Well. “For what it’s worth, the view from here is fantastic.”

“Thanks,” she says weakly. “My view isn’t so bad, either.”

“If you want to forget your clothes more often, I wouldn’t mind. But unless you want to start a riot, you might want to get dressed for work.” He grins, then hangs up. Darcy stares for a second because a) she can’t believe he knew she was perving, and b) he thinks she looks good naked. Then her cell rings and she kicks it back into high gear because she’s still late.

When she rushes out her door, her neighbor is standing at his front window and he waves at her. She can’t see below the waist but she’s pretty sure he’s still naked. He winks, and Darcy’s pretty sure her panties are going to be in a very uncomfortable state for the rest of the day.

She groans because, well, she is so fucked.

 


	11. captain baby whisperer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Steve babysit and talk about the future. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for a katertots prompt

katertots prompted darcy/steve and [this gif](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mdff6gyu7Z1qbw4dpo1_500.gif)  


 

\----

 

“Of course she likes you,” Darcy mutters in disgust as she watches Steve bathe Tony and Pepper’s daughter with absolutely no problems. There was probably still water dripping from the ceiling from when Darcy had tried to do the same task yesterday. “You’re Captain America. You’re hardwired to capture the hearts of women and children everywhere, and this little pork chop is both. It’s no wonder she fell under your spell so quickly.”

Steve’s lips quirk up, but he doesn’t turn to face her. Instead, he concentrates on lathering the toddler’s hair “Come on, Darcy, you know Maria loves you.”

“Steve, she  _peed_  on me.” Darcy crosses her arms over the shirt Steve leant her and glares. Since she’s glaring at the back of his head, it does not have the intended effect. Instead, he just coos at the baby.

“She didn’t mean to, did you sweetheart?” Maria splashes happily, her chubby fingers playing in the water and splashing bubbles on Steve’s nose. She makes a cute little baby noise that Darcy finds adorable, and Steve turns to grin at her. “See?”

“She just said ‘goo goo ga ga,’” Darcy says, rolling her eyes.

“But it means she’s sorry.” He turns back to Maria and scrunches his nose, which makes her giggle. “You’re sorry, aren’t you, Maria?”

Darcy snorts, but she can’t resist the grin that tugs at her lips. It’s criminal that he’s even sexy even when he’s doing that stupid baby voice. Immediately, she feels guilty for thinking sex things in front of the baby. “Whatever, Captain Baby Whisperer.”

He carries on a nonsensical conversation with Maria as he bathes her and Darcy watches, part in awe, part in annoyance, the ease with which he interacts with the little girl. Her heart melts as Maria grins her toothy little baby grin at Steve, then pats him on the cheeks with her tiny hands. She imagines this scene with a little girl that looks like Steve, and she’s struck by an unexpected wave of longing. 

As if he’s reading her mind, he asks, “You ever think we should have one of these?” His shoulders are tense, and he doesn’t look at her, but she knows that the answer is important.

The question is surprising, mostly because they haven’t really discussed the future. They talk around it plenty, make oblique references to it, but this is the first time he’s stated outright for the record that he really sees them in it for the long haul. The really long haul. It’s a nice to know. “One day. When I think I can make them like me better than you, then we’ll talk.”

He laughs, relaxing, because what he hears—what she’s saying—is, “yes.”

 

 


	12. be a hero (skinny!steve modern au)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve can't stand bullies. Darcy likes heroic underdogs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pastatheory prompted skinny!Steve and Darcy in modern times! So here's my attempt at that.
> 
> AU and unbeta'd.

Steve doesn’t know why he lets Bucky talk him into these things. The pulsing music and the way the crowd presses in is something he can’t get used to. He’d prefer a quiet night with a movie or a book or his sketchpad, but Bucky somehow convinces Steve that he should go out and here he is, sitting awkwardly at the bar while Bucky dances between a couple of girls.

Steve nurses a coke—his health problems and medication have made him wary of alcohol, and he doesn’t much like the taste of it anyway—and occasionally tries to strike up conversation with somebody, anybody, but people have a way of looking through laughably short skinny guys. He smiles at the woman beside him, sips his coke as she smiles tightly and moves a couple of seats down. Steve tries not to take it personally.

He notices a commotion a few seats down and as a big man’s got his paws all over a pretty blonde woman. The woman is trying to push him away, but he keeps pressing in closer and closer, and no one is helping her. He hops off his stool and taps the man on the shoulder.

“Hey buddy, the lady said to stop.” 

The man does stop and turns to face Steve. He laughs when his gaze flicks down. “Beat it, kid.” 

Steve stands his ground, and the blonde woman shoots him a grateful look as she makes her escape. The big man—the huge man, really—tries to stop her, but Steve grabs his arm. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

The goon whirls around, seriously pissed now. “I said fuck off.” He takes a swing at Steve, and which Steve manages to duck, but he doesn’t escape the second blow and he falls to the ground. The goon isn’t content with that, though, and kicks him hard. Steve scrambles to his feet and throws a punch of his own. It connects with the goon’s mouth, but all it does is make him laugh, and he knocks Steve to the ground again. A girl comes forward to stop it, but then Bucky’s there, standing between him and the big guy. He manages to get a blow in to the guy’s stomach before the bouncers come and break it up. Of course, Steve, Bucky, and the goon are kicked out.

The goon belligerently tries to get back in, but Bucky slings his arm around Steve and leads him off. “Jesus, Rogers,” Bucky says with a laugh. “You do have an affinity for getting punched, don’t you?”

Steve spits out the blood pooling in his mouth. “I could have taken him.”

“Of course you could have. Look, there’s this other place—“ He’s cut off by a voice shouting after them.

“Hey!” Bucky and Steve turn to see a pretty brunette woman come through the doors of the club, pushing past the belligerent goon. She’s grinning widely at them. “What you did back there was way stupid.”

Steve smiles wryly. “Thanks. I thought it was one of my dumber moments myself.”

The woman is pretty, really pretty, and she gives him a once over. She’s slightly taller than him in her high heels. He knows there’s no way she would possibly be interested in him, but he can’t stop looking at her. “You’re what? A hundred pounds?”

“Soaking wet and with rocks in my pockets, yeah.” He hears Bucky laugh behind him.

She looks back at the guy still trying to bully his way back in. “Hodge has got like, a hundred pounds on you and you still took him on.”

And he’d do it again, but he’s not going to say that. She bites her lip, and he tries not to say something stupid like, “I’ve been beat up by bigger guys before.”  Instead, he goes with, “I know, pretty stupid.”

“Yeah, but impressive.” Incredibly, Steve felt himself start to blush. He tried to think of what Bucky would do, what he’d say, but his mind blanks, which is okay because she continues on. “Not a lot of guys would have stood up for a stranger like that. That was really cool. I’m Darcy, by the way.”

He takes her outstretched hand and shakes. Her skin is soft and smooth, and he just holds it instead of shaking until Bucky clears his throat. “Steve.”

“And I’m Bucky.” Steve waits for Darcy to turn her attention to his friend and forget all about him, but she just smiles fleetingly at Bucky before turning back to Steve.

“So the night is young yet. There’s this really great ice cream place that’s open late. You interested?”

He’s a little stunned. She’s looking at him expectantly, that pretty smile on her lips, and he can’t quite make his mouth move. Bucky has to nudge him in the back to get him to answer. “Yeah. That’d be good.” 

“Great. It’s this way.” She starts walking, then turns around. “Oh. Your friend’s invited, too, if he wants.”

Bucky waves. “Nah, I’m good. I’ll see you tomorrow, punk.”

He falls into step beside her and sticks his hands in his pocket, surreptitiously wiping his sweaty palms, hoping he’ll be able to think of things to say. He looks back at Bucky, who gives him a big grin and two thumbs up. Steve rolls his eyes, then looks at Darcy, who sees Bucky and laughs.

“Is he always like that?”

“Yeah, but don’t hold it against me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She catches her lower lip between her teeth again, and he feels his heart flip. “Let’s go. I want to buy an ice cream cone for the hero of the hour.”


	13. like vines we intertwine (steve/darcy/bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They grow up together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for an anon who prompted Bucky/Darcy/Steve, high school sweethearts.

They grow up together, Steve and Bucky running wild through the town—well, as wild as someone with Steve’s health problems can run—and Darcy, tearing off after them every chance she can escape her mama, who’s forever trying to instill things like decorum and ladylike behavior in her. She’s just as wild as Bucky, and she keeps up and never makes fun of Steve, so it doesn’t matter that she’s a girl and she’s two years younger. It just becomes expected that when you see the three one of them you see the three of them together. It’s the two orphan boys and the tomboy, thick as thieves, and middle school and high school don’t change that. 

They give her the inside scoop on how to get past which teachers—Steve with cleverness, Bucky with charm, and Steve tells her she’ll be fine because she’s got both in spades. They give her her first taser—“in case we’re not around to protect you,” Bucky says solemnly. And they teach her to drive after they learn, and Steve and Bucky’s foster mom grounds them for a week after she finds out. Darcy likes finding new and different ways to sneak into their room to keep them company because she doesn’t like going without them.

It’s only natural, then, that when she starts to really think about sex, she thinks about them first. They’re sitting in Darcy’s room on her fifteenth birthday, watching TV when she just plants a hard kiss on Steve’s lips. It’s her first kiss. Bucky’s her second, and she couldn’t imagine it any other way because she belongs to both of them and they belong to her. 

Steve’s her first everything, “Because he’s gentler than I am, baby,” Bucky croons, but Bucky is never far behind. No one bats an eye one day when the three of them show up to school and they’re holding hands, because that’s how the three of them are, no matter that they expected Darcy to pick one of them, not both. 

When they graduate, Steve and Bucky head to the Army and fight in a war. Darcy heads to college and writes them every day. When they come back, they’re different. Bucky’s lost an arm; he’s harder more cynical, the boyish charm all chipped away. He survived the war by closing himself off. Steve survived it by falling in love, and he comes home mourning a girl named Peggy. He lies in Darcy’s arms one night, trying to explain in halting terms that he loves Darcy, never stopped loving Darcy, but he loved Peggy, too. He asks for forgiveness, and Darcy kisses him, telling him that he always has it. She can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt, but she understands what it is to have more than one person live in your heart.

It takes some shifting and bending, but they figure out how to be together again.


	14. that’s definitely not a gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the anon who requested Darcy helping Cap out of his uniform and shenanigans.

“Darcy, I don’t need your help!” Steve grumbles, gently batting at her hands. “I don’t hurt that badly.” Of course, he has to wince after he says this because shifting at the waist hurts like hell, even if he can already feel his body healing. Or maybe especially because he can feel his body healing. He’s not quite sure how all of that works. He is sure, however, that it would be a really bad idea for Darcy to help him take of his uniform. She’s already tossed the utility belt aside,his gloves, and is unzipping the chest piece when he places his hands on hers to stop her. He starts to stand, but she throws her leg over his and straddles his lap, trapping him beneath her. He could move her easily, he knows, but his still-healing ribs wouldn’t like that—and he likes the feel of her too much.  _Just a moment_ , he tells himself. He puts his hands on her waist to lift her off his lap, but she wriggles, and the pain in his ribs recedes for a moment as all of his focus centers on Darcy. 

She, however, is focusing on taking off his uniform, and not for any of the reasons he’d like. “Look, sitting in this uniform is making you uncomfortable, and I know you can’t take it off by yourself right now, so—I thought you didn’t have a gun,” Darcy mutters. Oh God, he can’t breathe as reaches down and her fingers definitely do not close around a gun. 

Steve groans and he tries to stammer out something about adrenaline, but what comes out is, “Happens. Adrenaline. You,” because her hand is  _still_ there and it’s all he can do to not buck his hips into it.

“Oh.” Darcy’s breath hitches and she catches her lower lip between her teeth. “How are your ribs feeling?” she asks breathlessly.

“Better,” he gasps as her hand tightens around him. 

“Good.” And then she’s kissing him, trying to be careful of his injury. He doesn’t care about his ribs now. All he cares about is Darcy and getting her closer—so much closer. He cups her ass and pulls her flush against his length.

“Fuck!” she gasps into his mouth, grinding against him.

“Yeah. Okay.” He moves his hands to the zipper of her SHIELD uniform, pulls it down, and while she’s got a tank top underneath, he groans when he sees the swell of her breast. He closes his lips around one peak, sucking through the fabric of her shirt and bra, and she snaps her hips hard against his, making them both pant for air. 

“Now. Want you now.” 

He nods. He’s been dreaming about this for so long he can’t quite believe it’s happening. She slides off his lap and onto her knees in front of him. She undoes the pants on his uniform, pulling them down, running her fingers along his length through his briefs. “And here I always hoped you were free balling it,” Darcy says with a smile before pulling his briefs down and releasing him. She lets out a gasp. “Oh, this is even better than I imagined,” she murmurs, running her knuckles along his length.

“You’ve imagined it?” 

“All the time.” He pictures her in her bed, fingers buried between her thighs as she thinks of him and fuck, there’s an image that’ll stay with him forever.

Darcy licks her lips and smiles up at him. “What are you thinking about, big boy?”

“You,” he says, reaching out to run his fingers through her hair. “Touching yourself. Thinking of me.”

“Mmm. One of my favorite activities. One day I’ll show you.”

“Get up here, Darcy,” he commands, but she shakes her head.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” And then her tongue touches him and holy fuck, he might just come then and there. Somehow he holds off, but he watches her, keeps eye contact as she licks and sucks, lips stretched beautifully around his cock as she moves them over him, driving him out of his damned mind. His hips buck, pushing him further into her mouth, and while his ribs protest, Darcy doesn’t and shit, she manages to take all of him. And then she does it again and again. He tangles his fingers in her hair and he comes down her throat. 

He strokes her hair as she swallows all of it. Darcy places one last kiss to the tip of his cock and grins up at him. She opens her mouth to say something when they hear a voice interrupt them.

“Agent Lewis, when we said, ‘Take care of Captain Rogers’ this isn’t quite what we had in mind.” They turn and see Bucky standing in the door to the cockpit. Yeah, they’d both definitely forgotten where they are not actually alone in the quinjet. Natasha and Clint are still in the cockpit, but Bucky is smirking at Darcy and Steve. Bucky is probably never going to let him hear the end of this, but damned if Steve could muster up the energy to care. Just as long as he isn't an asshole to Darcy. So of course the next thing out of his mouth is, “You missed some.” 

Bucky gestures to the corner of her lips. Darcy touches her lips to find some of Steve's come. Steve finds it sexy that instead of just wiping it off, she swipes her thumb across to push the excess back into her lips. “Holy shit,” Bucky mutters. “I think I’m injured, too, if this is how you take care of the wounded.”

“Fuck you,” Steve says, pulling his pants back on. Darcy zips up her uniform and sits beside him, and when his hand reaches for hers, she links her fingers with his. 

“I don’t think I’m your type,” Bucky says with a snort. “Agent Lewis on the other hand—well, I think she’s everyone’s type.”

“I hate you so much right now,” Darcy says with a groan. “I didn’t even get to come,” she whispers in Steve’s ear, and his hand tightens in hers.

“Later,” he promises. Because there will definitely be a later.

 

 


	15. a ficlet in three parts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three ficlets written for three different prompts that I'd written as a series.

1.

“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this,” Darcy grumbles as she opens the door to find Steve standing there. Well, not Steve, Captain America. And he’s smiling at her in a way that makes her heart flip flop. The uniform, however, is doing other things to her libido.

This crazy crush she has on him has been brewing for months, and her night time fantasies have gotten more and more out of control as the days go by. She swears, any minute she’s going to jump his damn bones. The way his eyes heat as they travel over her sends a shot of lust racing through her.

 _Think professional_ , she reminds herself, because it won’t do any good to see “Pepper Potts Assistant Jumps Captain America’s Bones” as a headline. “You don’t look to bad yourself. I’m almost ready. Just give me a second.” She runs to her room and grabs her bag, makes sure that her lipstick, compact, and wallet are all in there. She can see Steve sitting on her couch as he waits for her, and inexplicably she grabs a condom from her nightstand and stuffs it down her bra. Just in case.

—

“You lied,” Darcy says accusingly when she spots a shock of red hair and a dark haired man with a silver arm wave to them. Darcy waves back. “You said you were going to be here by yourself. Nat and Bucky are here.”

“Yeah,” Steve says with an unrepentant grin, “but you’re more fun. But thank you for coming with me today. I hate these things, but it’s for a good cause, and you being here helps me relax.”

He’s so earnest, and although she pinches him on one muscled bicep, she accepts his arm. As Pepper’s assistant, she’s a known Avenger associate and it doesn’t surprise anyone to see her with any one of Earth’s mightiest heroes. She gets bored making small talk pretty quickly, but Steve refuses to relinquish her hand, even as he continues to try and solicit donations for the children’s hospital. Even with the mask on, she can tell that his face lights up when he talks about the hospital, about the kids there, and about how much they need. 

Speeches are about to start, and Steve is giving one. He looks nervous as he leads them to their seats. Natasha is seated on Steve’s other side and Bucky seated next to Darcy. She can’t help looking at Steve throughout the whole program. He’s such a beautiful man, inside and out and is it any wonder that she wants him? Finally, the organizer of the benefit stands up to introduce Steve, and Darcy feels him tense beside her. She coves his hand with hers to give him comfort, watches as he relaxes almost imperceptibly.

She doesn’t quite understand why she does what she does next.

“Hey, Steve?” she whispers, and he leans in so he can hear her. “I want to have sex with you. Also, how do you feel about a relationship?”

 

2.

“Now? Really? Any other moment of the day and you pick  _now?_ ” His voice is a harsh whisper, out of respect for the man currently speaking. Darcy shrugs, then nods towards the man at the podium, holding her finger to her lips to signal quiet. Steve, however, refuses to let it go. “Why would you pick this moment to tell me that you’d like to have sex with me?”

She shrugs again, and leans in to whisper, “I just thought you’d like to know. And I’m pretty sure I said sex  _and_ a relationship. But trust a dude to get hung up on sex. But hey, if you’re not interested…”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested. I just—just seriously, now?” He sounds pained and Darcy has to fight back a grin.

“Well, I don’t know  _now_ is the best time to sneak away,” Darcy murmurs, then tilts her head thoughtfully. “Although I wouldn’t be opposed—“ 

Steve shoots her a repressive glare. “You know what I mean. Now all I’m going to be able to think of is you—you and me—us…“

“Naked,” Darcy supplies cheerfully. Steve reaches for his glass of water and tosses it back.

The man at the podium draws their attention. “And now, without further ado, Captain America!”

Steve glances at his lap, then glances at her helplessly. She leans over to whisper in his ear. “Think baseball,” she says helpfully. He glares at her through the mask and stands. She blows him a kiss as he walks up to the podium, shield conveniently covering his torso.

 

3.

“Why did you bring me here?” Darcy asks, looking around as Steve, still in his Captain America getup, leads her to a garden folly in the heart of the park. Everyone else is still back at the luncheon, which is still in full swing after Steve’s speech. There’s dancing going on back on the main lawn, and she’d wanted to dance with Steve, but he’d taken her hand and tugged her along behind him. 

 

“I believe you started a conversation back there,” he said, tugging her behind a wall, out of sight of the path. Her heel catches in a soft patch of loam, and she stumbles right into his arms, right where he wants her and right where she wants to be. She giggles as he lifts her up off her feet and finally,  _finally_ kisses her the way she’s been dreaming of since the day she saw him. His lips are hard and eager on hers, and she finds herself trapped between the wall of the folly and a wall of muscle. Keeping her lips pressed to his, she fumbles with pulling off his gloves, and then their hands are everywhere, brushing the sides of her breasts, scraping nails across the back of his neck, bunching up the skirt of her dress and cupping her ass as he pulls her closer, fingers sneaking under the edge of his helmet at the nape of his neck.

Hard knuckles brush over the damp silk of her panties, and Darcy lets out a strangled cry. “What are you doing?” she breathes as he pushes the fabric aside and feathering the lightest of touches over her core. Her breath comes in uneven gasps, stolen temporarily when Steve kisses her and strokes his tongue against hers to match the speed of his fingers on her slit. 

“I thought you weren’t opposed,” he teases, but he pauses, smirking as he says, “We can stop if you want.” And he would, she knows, but that’s not what she wants. Still, she pauses.

“Anyone could see,” she whispers.

“Bucky’s keeping watch,” he says with a grin. “No one will come. Except you and me.”

She snorts, then rocks her hips against his hand,. “Keep going,” she commands, and he laughs and presses his lips to her neck, nipping and sucking at the skin there in a way she knows is going to leave a mark, but she doesn’t even care because his fingers. Dear God, his fingers. She bucks her hips up in demand for more. She feels his lips curve against her skin, and then he thrusts one long, thick finger into her.

She bites his shoulder to hold in the scream.

“All I could think of during my speech was you, like this,” he whispers, sliding his finger in and out of her, coaxing her towards the edge. “I was thinking of all the ways I’d like to make you come, of how it would feel to have you around me.”

Darcy can’t speak, can barely breathe as she concentrates on the digit inside of her. There’s something delightfully wicked about being debauched by Captain America in full uniform. In public. It makes her hotter. She writhes against the stone wall, trying to quicken Steve’s pace, but he won’t be rushed.

She decides to be a bit more proactive, letting him support her weight as she reaches for the buckle of his pants, concentrating on unzipping and releasing his cock. She leans away from him for a moment and reaches into her bra, pulling out a condom. He laughs, a raspy, strangled sound, and his finger stills inside her. 

“Feeling optimistic today?”

“Are you complaining?” she asks as she rolls the condom over him. “I decided we were going to have sex. It was best to be prepared.”

And then he thrusts into her, and she holds on as she moves her hips to meet each stroke. It doesn’t take long before Darcy’s coming, tightening around Steve, pulling him over the edge with her. They stand there, still connected and unwilling to move as they both come back down to earth.

Darcy absently runs her fingers up and down the muscles of his back. They’re both still fully clothed, which makes her snicker. 

“Hell of a first kiss you’ve got there, Rogers,” Darcy murmurs lazily.

“Wait until you see my second act,” he says with a tired laugh. He kisses her softly, reverently, which feels almost as good as the sex. “Now I think you said something about a relationship?” His tone is playful, but his eyes are serious, earnest, not at all like the guy who just completely rocked her world. In response, she leans up and kisses him again.

 


	16. rose petals are overrated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who'd prompted Darcy/Steve, regrets

He stares up at the ceiling of one of the rooms in the helicarrier’s infirmary. The sheet of the hospital bed is scratchy against his bare back, but he doesn’t want to move, because Darcy is a warm, sleepy weight against him in the cramped confines. He combs his fingers through her hair and presses a soft kiss to her forehead. Her eyes flutter open, and she smiles languidly up at him, pressing an answering kiss to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he says, because he is. He rubs his thumb over the little furrow that appears between her brows, and she rolls so that she’s straddling him, beautiful and naked and distracting. He feels himself start to harden.

“For having sex with me?” she asks, raising an eyebrow and rubbing herself against him. “This part of you doesn’t feel very sorry.”

He laughs and reaches up to cup her neck, bringing her down for a hot, searing kiss. When she pulls away, she rests his forehead on hers and he flicks his tongue out to tease her bottom lip, making her giggle. “Not that. Never that. This just isn’t how I saw our first time together going.”

She laughs and nibbles at his jawline. “Oh? You didn’t see us jumping each other’s bones in ‘holy-shit-we-almost-died sex’?” And that’s what it had been. He’d burst into the infirmary room, she assured him that they had just admitted her as a precaution but really she was fine, and then they’d torn each other’s clothes off and proceeded to have hard, desperate, wild sex. And then they’d done it again. It looks like both of them are up for a third round.

He groans as she shifts again, notching herself more fully against him and rocking slowly. “Believe it or not, I planned romance. Candles. Rose petals.”

“Rose petals are overrated.” She bites her lip, concentrating on the sensations she’s creating for both of them. His breathing quickens, and his hands clamp around her hips, moving her the way he now knows they both like.

“I wanted it to be special.”

“It was.” She lifts her hips and guides him inside her, sighing dreamily as he fills her to the hilt. “And this is, too. There’ll be time for all the romantic stuff later.” She leans in to kiss him again, and soon, he’s not thinking about romantic gestures. Just Darcy and the way her body fits with his.

 

 


	17. knuckleheads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy likes Steve, Steve likes Darcy. So why aren't they together? Good thing Bucky's around to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Katy wanted fic, so I wrote her fic. Thanks to blackglass for looking this over for me!

Bucky passes Darcy just as she’s leaving Steve’s office. “Hey, Buck!” she says waving cheerfully as she flits out into the hallway. 

“Lookin’ good, dollface,” he says with a wink. 

She laughs and shakes her head at him. “You are a shameless flatterer, Barnes, but I like you for it anyway.” She stands up on tiptoe and kisses him on the cheek.

“When you gonna run away with me?” Bucky asks, holding onto her hand. 

She pulls away and gives him a pat on the ass. “I’m free next Tuesday, give me a call.” Bucky laughs as she waves and hurries down the hall. He sighs, watching her go, liking the swing of her ass. It only took one disastrous date to figure out that they’re never going to happen. Ever. But that doesn’t mean he can’t admire her form.

He turns and finds Steve glaring at him, and Bucky smiles unrepentantly. “You ever gonna ask her out?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says stiffly, deliberately shuffling the papers on his desk.

“Nice try, punk, but that’s not gonna work on me.” Bucky settles into the chair across from Steve’s desk. “You talk about her all the time, you get especially gentleman-like when she enters a room, and I’m pretty sure I heard you jerking off and moaning her name the other night. By the way, do you know how thin the walls in our apartment are?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, cheeks turning red, “found that out with the last girlfriend you brought home.”

Bucky shrugged. “Girlfriend might be putting too fine a point on it. But you’re not changing the subject. You and Little Miss Lewis. When are you gonna snap her up?”

“I’m not—it’s not like that.” Steve sighs and slumps down in his seat. “Okay, I do like her—”

“There’s a surprise,” Bucky says with a snort.

Steve shoots him a quelling glare. “I just don’t know how she feels about me. We’re friends and I don’t want to mess it up if she doesn’t want to date me.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but is this or is this not the fourth time she spent her lunch hour with you?” Steve opens his mouth to refute that, but Bucky continues on. “And does she or does she not constantly text you to tell you about her day?”

“That’s just something friends do.”

“And she looks at you like she wants to throw you down and rip your clothes off. Is that something that friends do? I mean, considering you look at her the same way—”

“Shut it, Bucky,” Steve growls, and Bucky smiles in satisfaction.

“I’m telling you, she’s into you, you’re into her. It shouldn’t be this complicated.” Steve doesn’t say anything to that. “She’s a beautiful dame, and plenty of guys would like to get their paws on her.”

Steve’s head pops up. “Who?”

“Me,” Bucky says baldly. “You don’t make your move, I will.” It’s a lie, but desperate times, desperate measures. After all, someone’s gotta get these two knuckleheads together.

—

Darcy is looking at him like he’s nuts, which Bucky would find amusing if he wasn’t so afraid that Steve is gonna haul back and deck him any second now. He can see Steve out of the corner of his eye, fists clenched and teeth gritted. Most people would see an impassive expression on his face, but Bucky’s got the advantage of almost a lifetime of friendship under his belt, 70 years apart notwithstanding, and he knows exactly what’s going through his best friend’s mind. 

Steve’s been watching Bucky, who’s been all over Darcy since she got to Stark’s party. For the past twenty minutes, Bucky knows he’s been debating his choices. Steve’s either gonna grow a pair and ask Darcy out, or he’s going to deck Bucky. Those are the only two options. 

Bucky, obviously, hopes for the former.

“Bucky, what the hell is wrong with you?” Darcy demands when Bucky drapes an arm around her shoulder and pulls her closer. This is probably the fast track to a face full of five-fingered patriotism, but Steve’s not moving nearly fast enough to suit him. Time to speed this thing along.

“Well,” he says with a wink, “You did agree to run away with me next week. I figured we should practice.”

Darcy shakes her head and tries to back away. “Okay. It’s finally happened. You’ve actually gone nuts.”

“Just trying to help out a friend. Don’t slap me, dollface.” He leans in to kiss her, slowly, slowly, slowly…dammit, when is Steve gonna get there? He hopes to hell he’s not actually gonna have to kiss her, because they’ve kissed once before and it was nice enough, but he really, really doesn’t want to get the snot beat out of him.

His lips are a whisper away from hers when he finds himself shoved unceremoniously on his ass. “Excuse me,” a rough male voice says, and Bucky looks up to see Steve wrap his arms around Darcy and lay one on her. Darcy’s frozen for a second before she responds. Enthusiastically.

Steve dips her back, and Bucky’s pretty sure he catches a glimpse of Steve’s tongue entering her mouth. Bucky gets to his feet and waits for them to come up for air so they can thank him properly. It becomes apparent after a few minutes that that isn’t happening anytime soon. Bucky shrugs and winks at a pretty blonde who passes by. She winks back. Steve and Darcy can thank him later.


	18. kiss, kiss

Darcy’s trying not to geek out over the fact that she’s sitting behind the dugout with the Avengers. Granted, she’s friends with the Avengers so doing stuff with them shouldn’t be news, but they rarely do public stuff like this, so she gets to be  _seen_  hanging with the Avengers. She’s not fame hungry, she just wants to rub it in her stupid little brother’s that she’s got cooler friends than he does. Really, it’s what he deserves for rubbing it in  _her_  face every time he gets to do makeup for one of her favorite actors. Jerk. But whatever, she’s the one sitting next to Steve Rogers. She makes sure she sends her baby bro a picture before the game starts.

The perks of hanging with the Avengers aren’t too bad, either. She’s never had seats like this before, and while she actually prefers the nosebleeds because she can actually see the whole field, there’s something really cool about being able to wave to David Wright from where she’s sitting behind the Mets dugout. Not that she did that. Okay, maybe she did once. Twice. Jane would probably say three times, but Darcy will maintain forever that she was just brushing her hair behind her ear. That, however, is neither here nor there, because Darcy is 99% sure David Wright waved back. Or he was pushing the bill of his cap out of his face. Whichever.  

When Darcy tells Jane this, Jane doesn’t quite seem to grasp the enormity of the situation. No, she’s more interested in discussing the physics of the game with Tony and Bruce. So instead, Darcy turns to Steve, who isn’t exactly enthusiastic about it, either, but at least he makes an attempt to smile at her excitement. He looks at her like she’s crazy when she sighs and says that maybe David Wright is her Mr. Right. To his credit, Steve keeps from groaning at the terrible joke. His smile slips, but she’s pretty sure she’s talking enough to make his eyes glaze over so she forgives him. He does attempt a small grin, and Darcy is appeased.

She also takes it as a cue to expound upon her love for Wright to a somewhat captive audience, because Steve’s got one of the SHIELD handlers on the other side of him and girl is sending out more signals than a five-way intersection. Given the choice between the handler gushing over him and a friend gushing over her favorite player, Steve has obviously chosen the lesser of the two evils. Darcy almost feels sorry for him. Almost.

Somehow the discussion morphs into the differences between baseball then and now—and even though it’s a National League game, he’s still really caught up with the whole designated hitter thing. They’re having a spirited argument over the position—pausing once so she can sigh over a fantastic defensive play from her favorite—when Jane taps Darcy on the shoulder because hey! It’s kiss cam time, and that is always fantastically awkward.

They giggle over the couple that isn’t a couple—“SIBLINGS!” Jane, Darcy, and Tony shout as the camera pans away from the stiff and awkward pair on the screen—and grimace over the couples that inevitably forget to keep things tame enough for the kiddies. They coo over the sweet old couple and snort at the couples in costume. And then Darcy’s on the screen, part of her face cut off as the camera focuses on Steve and SHIELD Agent. Agent is practically licking her lips.

Darcy’s gut reaction is  _oh, hell no_ , and she glances at Steve to see how he feels about it. He avoids looking up at the jumbo tron, pretending to find his soda excruciatingly interesting, but Agent isn’t taking the hint. No, she’s definitely going to pounce, and dammit, the camera isn’t going to move away anytime soon. Under the chants of “kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Darcy knows one thing for certain. She’s not going to let Agent over here kiss Steve.

Darcy leans over, takes Steve’s face firmly between her hands, and plants one on him. He stiffens in surprise, and damn it, this was apparently not the right move and now their friendship is going to be all sorts of fucked and—

Then his arms are wrapping around her, pulling her closer as his lips soften, mold themselves against hers as he buries his fingers in her hair. The crowd around them erupts in cheers, or maybe that’s just the roaring in her ears as Steve takes over the kiss, runs his tongue along the seam of her lips, slips his tongue into her mouth to stroke against hers. Heat licks over her skin as she sinks into him, and she knows—she  _knows_  they’re currently being one of those inappropriate couples, but she never wants this kiss to end so she sends a little mental  _fuck it_ to the universe and concentrates on Steve’s lips. By the time they come up for air, the kiss cam is actually over and they’re breathing like they’ve just run a marathon.

“Oh,” she says. She doesn’t even mind that she’s not articulate, because she’s pretty sure he just kissed her senseless.

“Oh,” he repeats with a smile. He laces his fingers with hers over their shared armrest and they look back out over the field. David Wright looks right at her and he grins—he actually  _grins_ at her!—and she can’t even get that excited about it, because now all she wants is to find a way to get Steve to kiss her again.


	19. soft touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For thewriterchick's prompt, " Steve actually doesn’t like doctors. He’s been poked and prodded too much in his lifetime. He doesn’t like folks touching him in general… Unless its Darcy."

After the battle is over, he comes back to SHIELD because what else is a genetically enhanced super soldier from the ’40s supposed to do in this day and age? The poking and prodding is expected. They call it a “physical” and maybe some of it is, but he knows better—they want samples of the experiment. He suffers through it—through the sterile touch of latex gloves, the smell of hospital that’s so similar and completely different than hospitals back in his day. He grits his teeth through the examination, trying not to flinch against every touch, all so he can go back to doing something that makes him feel like he’s at least got some sort of purpose again.

These days, he doesn’t touch easily. He never did, really, except with Bucky, unless dreams of having the right to exchange casual touches with Peggy counted. In this time, he’s conscious of his aversion to it, tries to hide it because he’s sure as hell not going to a SHIELD head doctor, and that’s where they’d try to send him. Thankfully, the people he works with aren’t tactile by nature. Still, he does his best to keep bodily contact to a minimum. 

Until  _she_ breezes in. A year after the battle in New York, Thor’s back in the picture, towing along Dr. Foster and her assistant, to study the connection between Asgard and Earth. Because Steve is a friend of Thor’s, and Miss Lewis is, too, it’s only natural that they enter each others’ orbits.

Steve’s never  _told_ anybody not to touch him, but he feels like it’s just one of those things that people know not to do. It’s not a thing that’s apparent to Miss Lewis—or Darcy, as she insists on being called—or if it is apparent, she ignores it.

Darcy’s so tactile it’s like she thrives on contact, needs it to survive, the same way Steve avoids it for the very same reason. She touches everyone, a playful slap on the arm, a pat on the back, a nudge of the knee. When she does it with Steve, he freezes. Instead of pulling his leg back from hers and increasing the space between them, he studies the sensation, the warmth of it, the comfort of it. For a long moment he’s filled with confused emotion. He knows if he tells her not to touch him, she’ll listen, but there’s something about her touch that’s  _different_.

She’s not a doctor, not an agent, and maybe that’s why there’s something in the way she touches him that calls to mind Bucky’s arm around his shoulder, or Peggy’s hand over his. It’s friendly, comfortable, and Steve sinks into it. He wants as much of it as Darcy’s willing to give him. 


	20. here she comes, miss jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For an anon prompt, "Can you do a fic where Tony sets up Cap with Miss America & Darcy gets jealous?"

"Problem with your lunch, Darce?" Jane asks as she sits down across from her in the common room.

Darcy looks up, gives Jane a baleful glare, and turns back to picking at her food. “No problems. Why would you think I have a problem?”

"You look a little stabby," Jane says cautiously, moving both her lunch and herself out of the fork’s radius. "That chicken’s already dead. You can’t kill it again." 

"If you don’t want me to kill you, shove it." 

Natasha sinks into the seat next to Darcy. She, apparently, doesn’t fear the stabby fork. ”Steve’s going on a date,” Natasha announces, nodding towards Steve and Tony talking across the room. “Darcy doesn’t like it.”

"I don’t feel anything about it one way or the other," Darcy says haughtily. "He can date whoever he wants and I won’t care."

Jane reaches across the table and slides Darcy’s dish away. “Okay, you’re going to want to eat that later and and you won’t be able to if you’ve completely destroyed it. So let’s talk about this.”

“Everyone knows you like Steve. It’s okay to be jealous—”

Darcy scowls. “I’m not jealous. Why should I be jealous? I don’t even care.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” Natasha says, an amused smile playing on her lips. “Especially when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset, you’re upset!” The room goes silent as everyone turns to stare at her. Darcy drops her head against the table so she doesn’t have to look at anybody. “Okay, I might be a little jealous. But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Darcy, we’ve all been there—“ Jane says insistently.

Darcy lifts her head and glowers. “I don’t want to talk about Steve going on a date with Miss Fucking America.”

“Oh!” Jane tries to keep from wincing, but Darcy sees it anyway and groans. “I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything. And Steve likes you, Darce.”

“I heard him asking Tony to set up the date. I don’t know how much clearer it gets. He’s going to go out with her and fall in love because Miss America is fucking awesome.”

“She’s not even that great,” Jane says, but she doesn’t sound like she believes it. Natasha just smirks. The jerk.

“Jane, I hate these things and I was even rooting for her. The girl is smart and gorgeous and perfect and I can’t even hate her because it’s like hating puppies. Who hates puppies, Jane?”

“She has a point,” Natasha says, and Darcy glares. Nat actually sounds like she’s enjoying her pain, and if she wasn’t a Russian assassin, Darcy would stab her with a fork.

“The point is,” Darcy says viciously, “that Steve’s going to meet her and they’re going to go on a magic fairytale date and fall in love—“

Jane’s eyes widen. “Darcy—“

“And then they’re going to have this stupid magic fairytale princess wedding and everyone will love them because how could they not—“

“Darcy!”

But Darcy’s on a roll and she won’t be stopped. “And they’re going to have these beautiful children and live happily ever after or whatever and he won’t even remember me except maybe as that girl who got him coffee sometimes.”

"Talking about anyone I know?" Darcy turns to see Steve standing behind her because of course. 

Darcy’s shoulders slump and she closes her eyes, willing this to just be a figment of her imagination. It’s not. He’s still there when she opens them again. So she pastes a smile on her face and says, “No.”

“Okay.” He’s smiling and Darcy doesn’t know what that’s even supposed to mean. God, how much did he hear? “Just so you know, my dinner with Miss America is a charity event. Not a date.”

Darcy crosses her arms and glares at him. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Right. I’ll see you later, then.” Darcy nods mutely and waves, hoping he’ll go away so she can die of mortification in peace. Then he stops. “Just so you know, magical fairy tale dates aren’t really my style.”

Darcy feels her face turn beet red and she drops her head back onto the table because oh my God, this is awful. And Natasha, the asshole, laughs. “She’ll keep that in mind when she asks you out,” Natasha says cheerfully.

Darcy gropes for her fork because if this isn’t a good reason to stab someone, no reason is.

Steve stops her cold, because instead of laughing he says, “I’ll look forward to it.” And damn if that doesn’t confuse her all over again.

 


	21. more than one night

"You know," Darcy says sleepily, "men typically don’t wake up their one-night stands to let them know they’re sneaking out. That way you don’t have to make up lame excuses that both of us know I won’t believe."

She sighs, watching him get dressed. When she’d met him at the bar earlier that night, he’d seemed like one of the good ones, but obviously the good ones didn’t always stick around. Just because it seemed like he was new to the bar hookup scenes didn’t mean that he wouldn’t be inclined to do the same thing bar hookups always tended to do.

He frowns, pulling on a plain white t-shirt before he turns to look at her. “I don’t want to go, but it’s a matter of life and death—”

She laughs, stretching languidly, and she sees the way his eyes are drawn straight to her chest. “No one’s ever used that one before.”

"It’s true," he says earnestly. "I do have to go, but I’ll call you. I promise."

Darcy wrinkles her nose, because she’s pretty sure  _that’s_ a new one. “Seriously, it’s okay Steve. This isn’t my first rodeo. You don’t have to explain, you can just go.”

"I’m not—" his phone rings, interrupting his sentence. He glares at his phone, then glares at her "I have to leave now, but I  _will_ call you. Whether you pick up is up to you.” Before she can say anything, he leans in and presses a hard kiss to her lips. “For the record, I wasn’t thinking of this as a one night stand.”

He strides from the room, leaving Darcy gaping after him in surprise. She flops back in bed, which still smells like him, bemused. Not because of the kiss, but because she  _actually_  believes him.


	22. let's go, don't wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's not the only one with first date nerves.

Darcy sat on the couch, flipping through channels too fast to actually see what was on the screen. With a sigh, she checked the clock for the fifth time in the last four minutes, clicked the off button and threw the remote down on the coffee table. Three minutes until eight. He’d be here any minute.

She smoothed out the skirt of the dark purple dress that cost almost as much as her next student loan payment, reapplied the lipstick she knew she’d worried off. She’d finished getting ready almost forty-five minutes early, and she’s spent that whole time second-guessing everything. Was her makeup too light? Was her dress too tight? What if Steve realized he made a mistake? What if she’d heard wrong? Maybe he wasn’t asking her out on a date, maybe it was a business dinner or something or maybe—Jesus, she was giving herself a headache.

Nothing worked as a distraction—not then and not now—and she was a wreck, her stomach tied up in knots, and she felt the tiniest bit like throwing up. 

7:58.

Swallowing hard, Darcy checked her clutch one more time. She made a big production of taking everything out as she checked for all of her essentials. Cell phone. License. Two credit cards. Cash. Lipstick. Tiny taser (because the world was filled with creeps). Breath mints (just in case). She carefully put everything back in. She sat patiently on the couch. She didn’t want to be the girl waiting at the door for the boy to come pick her up. Okay, so sitting on the couch waiting for the boy to come pick her up might not been so great 

7:59.

She stared at the clock, willing it to change. It did. She looked at the door expectantly.

Nothing.

She got up and fussed with her hair in the hall mirror, adjusted her bra, debated over shoes for the fiftieth time. Then she looked up at the clock again.

8:02.

Still nothing.

 _Don’t panic_ , she told herself.  _It’s only two minutes_. But her brain couldn’t help it. Steve was never late, not even by a minute, unless it had something to do with a mission. Tony had joked about it once, and Steve had said something in that quiet voice he got whenever he was thinking about his life before the ice. So he was never late. That could only mean one of three things: 1) he’d gotten called away, in which case he would have at least texted her; 2) he realized that asking her on a date had in fact been the biggest mistake of his life and now he was running for the hills; or 3) he hit his head on the way over and was now in the hospital in a coma. He’d wake with amnesia, see her face, and go running for the hills.

Darcy sighed. She’d liked Steve forever. She should have known that asking him asking her out was an a fluke, an aberration—was that shuffling she heard outside her door? She hurried forward and looked through the peephole, her heart soaring as she caught a glimpse of Steve. Her mouth went dry. He looked fantastic, even more so than usual in the dark gray suit. His hands were stuffed in his pockets. Her heart beat faster as she waits for him to knock.

He didn’t.

Instead, he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in short spikes. Darcy smiled as his lips formed what she knew was a curse and he tried to smooth his hair down again. Then his hands were back in his pocket, his expression impassive. He tilted his left shoulder back, paused that way for a moment, then scowled. He took his hands out of his pockets, left them straight down at his side. He stayed that way for a moment, raised his hand to knock but didn’t before a look of consternation passed over his face and he shifted again. Was he… _posing_?

Darcy smiled then. At least she wasn’t the only one who was nervous. She watched him a moment more before finally she decided that one of them was going to have to make a move. She pulled open the door just as Steve was reaching forward to knock. 

He fell into her.

They stumbled together a few steps before Steve righted them. He looked horrified.

“You certainly know how to make an entrance,” she said, breathless from laughter and the way his arm still wrapped around her waist to keep her upright.

He grinned sheepishly. “I was a showgirl once.” He let her go. Reluctantly, she took a step back. She wasn’t sure what to do, but looking up at Steve, at least she wasn’t the only one. 

“Nervous?” she blurted out, because she certainly was.

His lips quirked up. “A little. You?”

“A lot.” 

Steve laughed and took her hand. He pressed a kiss to the back of her knuckles. Holy crap, she was either going to melt or faint. “You don’t need to be. Not with me.” Damn, maybe she’d do both. “You look beautiful. 

She lifted his hand, kissing the back of his hand in turn and making him laugh. “So do you.”

“So I think we have a date.”

The butterflies in her stomach intensified, and her heart thumped a million beats per minute. She grinned. “We do, indeed.”

 

 


	23. the loudest silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the anon prompt, "we can't be friends because i'm still in love with you"

The words just slip out. Darcy hadn’t meant to tell him. She’d never meant to tell him. But one day between a laugh and a sigh, the words just roll off her tongue, drowning out everything else in the room.

"I love you."

 

He doesn’t laugh. Of course he wouldn’t—he’s far too nice, far too good for that. Maybe it would be better if he had laughed. Anything but that pained, apologetic expression on his face that says “I don’t love you back” louder  than any words possibly could. Her heart stops, shatters, and she takes in a deep shuddering breath to stop the tears that sting the back of her eyes. It’s stupid, this urge to cry, because really, what else was she expecting?

He opens his mouth to say the words, the ones she doesn’t want to hear, the ones she knows are coming, so she shakes her head. She can’t let him say it; her heart can’t take hearing the words out loud, or worse, the “I’m sorry” that’s sure to follow.

“It’s okay, Steve,” she says instead. “It was dumb anyway.”

She knows he wants to say something, so she turns up the movie they were laughing over before her confession ruined the moment. His eyes are on her, but she keeps her attention intently on the TV screen. When the credits roll, she makes what she’s sure is a completely awkward and transparent excuse, and flees the room.

She lets herself cry and listen to sad music for half an hour before she takes a deep breath, fixes her makeup, and goes back out to pretend that nothing ever happened, like their relationship hasn’t changed irrevocably. And why should it? she asks herself. Why should their friendship have to end just because he doesn’t love her back?

The lie doesn’t last. She tries, he tries, but it’s tense and it’s awkward, and a week and a half later, she’s doing everything short of shutting herself in her room to avoid him. She tells him she has work, that Jane’s been working her extra hard, but she doesn’t think he believes it. The worst part is, everyone knows something’s wrong. Before her unplanned confession, she and Steve had been thick as thieves. In a Tower filled with superheroes and spies, the fact that Darcy practically runs from the room whenever Steve walks in does not go unnoticed. If she gets another one of those half-pitying looks, she’ll tear her hair out. No, she’ll tear  _their_  hair out. The end of summer can’t come soon enough.

She packs up a week early. Maybe it’s cowardly, but why the hell should she have to be brave about heartbreak?

There’s a knock on her door, and she calls out, “Enter!” thinking it’s Bruce, coming to help her pack. It’s not.

“Getting ready to leave?” Steve asks, standing in her doorway, looking as uncomfortable as Darcy feels as he watches her put a pile of books, some from Natasha, some from him, into a box. 

Darcy forces a smile, looking up at him from her spot on the floor beside the coffee table. “Yep. Driving out on Saturday.”

“Is it because of—I mean, is it my fa—“ Darcy snorts. He can’t even say it. He swallows hard. “Are you leaving because of me?”

She bites back several remarks that could easily be read as bitter, because she’s not. She’s just…sad. “Whether or not your response had been different, this was always going to happen. You knew that. Gotta finish up that degree, right?” she says brightly, and it feels false, even to her ears.

She picks up the closest thing at hand and makes a great show of putting it into the box because looking at him breaks her heart just a little. Silence stretches between them, chipping away at her brittle emotions until all she wants is for him to leave.

“Culver’s not too far away,” he says tentatively, and Darcy looks up at him. “I could go with you if you want. Help you move your stuff in.”

“Why?”

He looks startled that she asked, but not nearly as startled as he is that he offered. But that’s him—even after she blanks him for weeks, he’s sweet. “Things have been weird between us, and I just…I was hoping it would help get us back to where we were. We’re friends—“

It’s too much. It’s all too much, and she says the words she should have said weeks ago before she began hiding from him. “I can’t. We can’t.” It breaks her heart all over again, how hurt he looks. That’s not what she wanted, it’s never what she wanted, but she has to say it, has to make the break clean. “We can’t be friends because I’m still in love with you. And maybe someone better than me could be around you and not feel it or not feel how much it hurts that you don’t love me back, but I can’t.”

He looks frustrated, pained, and she looks back down at her hands so he won’t see the sheen of tears in her eyes. He can’t possibly hurt as much as she does right now.

She hears him take a deep breath. “Darcy, I’m—“

“Please.” The word sounds choked and ragged, and she takes a deep breath to calm herself. “Please, don’t say you’re sorry.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” he says helplessly. 

She looks up, shrugs, lips curving in a smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “Wish me luck, Steve.”

He hesitates in the doorway, then walks forward, leans down to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Good luck, Darcy.”

And then he’s gone.

“Enough,” Darcy whispers to the empty room. It’s time to move on.

 


	24. asleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah prompted “He finds her in his bed, curled up like a burrito, the blanket pulled up to her nose and the AC set to high.” so here you go!

He finds her in his bed, curled up like a burrito, the blanket pulled up to her nose and the AC set to high. Considering where he’s spent the last week, it’s freezing, but he doesn’t turn it off. Instead, he quietly gets ready for bed, opting for sweatpants in lieu of boxers, and gets into bed beside her. She immediately rolls into his side, cuddling up against him, tucking her head beneath his chin, and he holds her close.

He’s just drifting off to sleep, completely relaxed for the first time in weeks, when he hears her murmur sleepily. “Steve?” Her voice is muffled by the blanket, still wrapped tightly around her.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he whispers, nuzzling against the silky softness of her hair.

“My AC’s broken. Had to use yours,” she says with a sleepy sigh. “Sorry.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead. “I don’t mind at all.”

She yawns again. “That’s nice.” He feels her shift, her blanket cocoon coming apart as she spreads it over both of them. Done with that, she grabs his arm and drapes it over her waist again. He smiles as he feels her breathing evens out as she falls back to sleep. 

It’s a nice thing, coming home to Darcy. He closes his eyes, thinking about how to ask her to make it permanent.

 


	25. what’s blue, yellow, and red all over?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Messy Twister with the Avengers isn't exactly what Darcy would call a good time. Or maybe it is.

When Darcy sees Tony Stark laying a Twister mat out on the lawn, she knows that the only prudent thing to do would be to stay away. Far, far away. When she sees him pouring huge puddles of paint into the color circles, she knows that she has to get away fast.

She spins on her heel for a hasty retreat when she hears, “LEWIS!” Too late. He’s caught her. Cringing, she turns and waves hello. He comes loping towards her like a giant, excited puppy. It’s endearing. It’s also terrifying.

"Hi, Tony, sorry I can’t stay, I’ve got—" She fishes around for something, anything, that might sound auspicious and important that Tony would rather send her to rather than remembering to attend himself. She’s got nothing, and Tony knows it, too.

"A team building exercise! Mandatory fun, and all that. Come along, Lewis." He grabs her wrist and drags her to where Pepper and the other Avengers are gathered around the mat, frowning. Clint’s also got a big, dumb grin on his face, and Darcy’s alarm bells crank all the way up to 11. 

She tries in vain to free her hand, but Tony’s got a surprisingly strong grip. “In case it’s escaped your notice, Tony, I’m not one of the Avengers. Oh darn, no mandatory team building for me. Sorry.”

"Are you kidding? As my assistant, you’re the most important part of the team. You’re my right hand—"

"Pepper’s your right hand."

"Fine, my left hand—"

"Isn’t that Rhodey?"

"My left foot, then, since Happy’s my right one," Tony says smugly, and really she has nothing else to say to that. "As one of my most essential appendages, you are required to play."

"I—"

"No arguments, Lewis." He releases her wrist so quickly she stumbles into Steve, who steadies her with a commiserating grin. 

"Believe, I’ve even tried pulling rank," Steve says with a shake of his head. "Tony threatened to follow me around until I gave in and played." Darcy groans. He’d do it, too. That, added to the fact that he’s her boss, makes resistance pretty futile. 

Tony shoots a glare at Steve. “Hey, hush up, peanut gallery. Now that we have all the Avengers—and friends—assembled, and everybody knows the rules—you do know the rules, don’t you, Lewis? Good,” he says when she nods reluctantly. “Now that everybody knows the rules, let’s get this thing started!”

“But why is there  _paint,_ Tony?” Darcy demands.

Tony blinks. “To make it more interesting. Now step right up, my crime-fighting comrades. It’s time for messy Twister.”

“It could be fun, right?” Steve whispers with a lopsided grin that makes her heart flip flop.

“So could a route canal.” With a resigned sigh, Darcy takes off her jacket and dress, leaving her in her slip. When the Clint lets out an appreciative whistle, she throws a shoe at him. “Shut it, Barton. If I have to play this stupid game, I’m not ruining a perfectly good dress.”

Realizing that she’s got a point, Steve and Clint strip off their shirts. Bruce does not, because mild mannered scientists who can turn into giant, green rage monsters are apparently exempt from mandatory fun. CEOs of billion dollar corporations also get a pass, so really it’s just Steve, Clint, Tony, Natasha, and Darcy, since Thor’s still Asgarding it up at home.

At least the eye candy is worth the humiliation. Possibly. She takes a look at Steve’s bare chest—a sight she doesn’t often get to savor—and sighs. Yeah, definitely worht it. 

And then Pepper announces that it’s left hand, green time. Darcy’s fingers are squishing around in wet paint, which is kind of fun and something she hasn’t experienced since her artist days back in college. In fact, as the game goes on, it’s actually  _fun_ , because why wouldn’t grown, shirtless men rolling around in paint not be? It’s messy and ridiculous, but that’s what makes it awesome.

Natasha’s the first to drop out, and Darcy can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not. Nat’s managed to only get paint on the tips of her toes and on her fingertips, so Darcy’s pretty sure it wasn’t an accident.

Darcy herself is covered in paint, not because she’s wallowing in it, but because Steve is beside her and thinks it’s hilarious to brush paint onto her whenever possible. Of course she has to retaliate.

While Tony and Clint are concentrating hard on being the last one standing, Darcy and Steve are trying to come up with ways to swipe as much paint as possible on each other. Their attempts to cover each other in colorful streaks end up tangling them together, until Steve’s thigh is pressed up between Darcy’s legs, her chest is smashed against his arm, and his face is close enough that she could just—

“Right hand, red,” Pepper calls out. Darcy looks away from Steve, her own cheeks red, as she looks down trying to find the red circles on the mat that looks more like a kid’s finger painting than a Twister mat. She moves her fingers, brushing them against Steve’s thigh, and suddenly he slips, sending them both toppling to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs.

Darcy smirks and wipes her fingers across Steve’s face, leaving a mess of blue, yellow, red, and green striped across his cheeks. In retaliation, Steve reaches up to take her face between his hands.

“No,” she laughs, trying to get away from him. He catches her anyway. But instead of covering her face with paint, he covers her mouth with his. 

Oh.  _Oh._

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registers Tony shouting something at the two of them, but all she cares about is Steve’s mouth on hers, his paint-covered hands trailing down so they cup her neck, his body pressing harder against hers as he rolls the pair of them over in a more comfortable position—

Darcy gasps as something cold and thick and wet hits the pair of them. She and Steve break apart, both dripping yellow paint. Tony’s got the empty paint tub in his hand. At some point, the rest of the team discreetly slipped away, because Tony’s the only one left.

“Too much mandatory fun for you two,” he says in disgust. “Take that inside.”

"Good idea, Tony," Steve says with a grin. He pushes himself to his feet and takes Darcy in his arms. He hurries into the house as Tony shouts at them from the Twister mat. 

"Wait, aren’t you going to ask who won?"

Darcy doesn’t care. She does, however, look forward to more mandatory fun.

 

 


	26. the skin you're in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanemoments on tumblr prompted: "Loki temporarily transforms Steve to his pre-serum body. Steve has lots of feelings, Darcy loves him for him."

After, he doesn’t want to see her. He does his best to not see her, but Darcy is relentless and manages to talk JARVIS into letting her into his place. He braces himself for her reaction, for her to turn from in disgust or look at him with pity. She stares at him a long moment, which he expected, but she doesn’t make the quick exit he thought she would. Instead, she throws herself into his arms. 

It doesn’t seem to bother her that there’s not so much to hold on to anymore, or that she’s almost half a head taller than him. Cupping his face in her hands, she presses her forehead to his.

"When they said it was bad, I thought you were dead," she whispers before she kisses him hard. He pulls away from her.

"Darcy, it  _is_ bad.” The despair that’s been eating at him since Loki’s spell hit threatens to overwhelm him. Suddenly, it all seems like a waste. The things he’s lost, the people he’s lost, it all seems pointless now that he’s back the way he was. Being Captain America gave him a purpose, a reason for losing his old life and being thrust in to this new one. Without it, what use was he? 

"You’re alive, that’s all that matters." Darcy reaches for his hand but he pulls away from her. 

"That isn’t all that matters. Look at me! I’m not—I can’t be Cap like this. I can’t—I can’t—" The rest of his sentence is lost in a fit of coughing, something that used to happen when he was a kid and he got worked up. He hears Darcy moving around his place, and then a glass of water is thrust into his hands. He takes a swallow, and his breathing evens out again. "I’m not a hero anymore. I can’t fight, I can’t help anyone. I’m no good to anyone."

Darcy sucks in a sharp breath. “Is that all you really think you’re good for?”

Steve laughs mirthlessly. “Isn’t it? If I’m no good in a fight, what am I good for? It’s is why they made me. It’s what those kids out there are looking up to.”

“If you think that’s the reason you’re a hero, you’re stupider than I thought.” Darcy takes his hands in hers and refuses to let him go. “I love you. Whatever skin you’re in, I love you, and whatever happens, we’ll get through it together.”

 


	27. man down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rolodexthoughts on tumblr prompted: "Darcy/Steve: Steve is down for some reason and Darcy has to get them both out of the situation somehow."

"Oh God," she whispered, slapping Steve lightly on the cheek trying to get him to open his eyes. He’d stumbled in, bleeding, and he’d managed to bite out one word before he collapsed: "Run."

But she wasn’t leaving without him. “Come on, Steve, wake up. Please. I can’t do this by myself. I’m not trained for this.”

He remained stubbornly unresponsive; Darcy sucked in a breath. Panic welled up, sticking in her throat and making it impossible to breathe. Shaking her head, she tried to calm herself. Freaking out wasn’t going to help her now, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to help Steve.

Glancing around the hotel room, she spotted the bed sheet, paper, pens—oh who was she kidding, she wasn’t MacGyver. No, what she did have was a singular talent for bullshit. She could work with that.

She ran to the door and peeked out. There was a maid cleaning out the room across the hall. She had a laundry cart. Darcy pulled it into her room. It took more strength than she knew she had, but using a combination of bed sheets and sheer determination, she managed to lift Steve into it. 

She pushed the cart into the hall just as the maid came out with an armful of sheets. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

Darcy flashed Steve’s SHIELD badge, hoping the woman wouldn’t look to closely. “I’m going to need to borrow your uniform, ma’am,” she said in her most authoritative voice. “And your car.”

Oh God, it worked. Ten minutes later, she drove a bed-sheet covered Steve out of the employee garage, right past a group of minion-types who looked right out of a horror movie. 

"We’re almost out, Steve," she whispered. "So don’t waste it by bleeding to death." 

 


	28. mr. fix-it (darcy/bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rolodexthoughts prompted: "Darcy/Bucky trying to fix something like a vase or a coffee cup"

"I don’t think that piece goes there." Bucky tries not to roll his eyes as Darcy’s breath tickles his ear. He doesn’t turn to look at her, but he knows she’s wringing her hands anxiously. This is fifth time she’s looked over his shoulder in as many minutes. 

He huffs out a breath. “Honey. Sweetheart. Baby. Doll. I can assemble an M16 in under 20 seconds, I think I can handle a broken vase.”

"It’s hard to handle when that piece doesn’t go there." She points, running a finger lightly over the jagged edge of the shard in his hand. "These don’t line up."

It takes a second for him to see what she means. He puts it down without comment, eyes scanning the other pieces. To her credit, she doesn’t say “I told you so,” but he knows her well enough to know that she really, really wants to.

It doesn’t last long, though. “Didn’t I tell you that it was a bad idea to have sex in Pepper’s office?”

He picks up a piece, holds it up for her inspection and smiles smugly when she nods. “That’s not what you were saying when my tongue was—”

"Yeah, well, this is all your fault."

Bucky scoffs. “You’re the one that kicked the vase off the desk.”

"I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t done that finger thing."

He chuckles, capturing her hand and placing a soft kiss to her wrist. “Yes, well I apologize for the orgasm.”

 

 


	29. fangirl (darcy/bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompted "Darcy/Bucky fangirling"

“Oh my God, did you see that?” Darcy practically squealed, clutching Bucky’s hands. “That was Captain America! Captain America said I was pretty! Captain America touched my hand!”

Bucky gritted his teeth and tried to tamp down the spurt of jealousy he felt.

“He’s so handsome. I just can’t even breathe,” Darcy sighed, watching Steve as he walked away. Bucky was 99% certain that she was staring at Steve’s butt.

He wrapped his arm around her and growled, “You’re really making me regret introducing you two. Stop staring at his ass.”

She turned to him and curled her fingers in his lapel. “Oh you know you’re my favorite ass,” she murmured. She stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his. 

He smiled as he slanted his lips against hers. “You’re such a jerk.”

 


	30. who's the hero now? (darcy/bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For rolodexthoughts, who prompted: "Why out of all the people I could be kidnapped with, did it have to be you?"

"Why out of all the people I could be kidnapped with, did it have to be you?"

"Excuse me?" Darcy hissed, completely affronted. Not that she’d argue with him, because she was only on the top of the list of people she’d like to get kidnapped with because she was…you know, her. It was the principle of the thing. You didn’t insult your fellow kidnappee. If it wasn’t a rule, it should have been. "I’m a great person to be kidnapped with!"

"No offense, sweetheart," Bucky muttered as he tossed his makeshift lock pick on the floor in frustration. One of her bobby pins, she’d like to add. She was helping already. "It’s just that you don’t exactly have the skill set that’ll get us out of here."

"One, don’t sweetheart me," she snapped. "And two, that’s just rude."

He plucked another bobby pin from her hair and tried the lock again. “Darce, you  _apologized_ for stepping on the big guy’s foot.”

”It’s called being polite.”

"That’s what I’m talking about. I don’t need someone who’s gonna be polite, I need someone who’s gonna help get us out of here. Damn, it broke again." Darcy glared at him. Sure she wasn’t Nat, but she wasn’t  _that_  useless. “I need someone who kicks ass on the weekends, not someone who reads romance novels.

She glowered at his back as she tossed another bobby pin at his head and contemplated ways to get Steve to kick his ass when they finally got out. And they would get out. She was confident of that. And she was pissed at him. Being pissed was far easier than being scared.

An idea came to her.

"How many guys did you say were out there?" Darcy asked, breaking the silence. Bucky swore again.

"Darcy, I’m trying to concentrate."

"How many guys?" Darcy asked insistently. Her hair, without the bobby pins, sagged heavily on her shoulder and she brushed it away.

Bucky sighed heavily and leaned his head against the door. Darcy narrowed her eyes at him.  _Strike two_ ,  _Barnes_ , she thought sourly, but at least he answered. ”Three, now can you just be quiet?”

"Can you take ‘em?" Now he was the one who looked insulted. "I’m just asking. Can you take them?"

"Yes. We just have to get out of here," Bucky bit out. "Which is what I’m trying to do."

"Okay, well if you want to get out of here, sit back down and pretend you’re still tied up."

"What?"

"It’s obvious your plan isn’t working. We’ll try mine." He looked so skeptical, Darcy wanted to punch him. Ugh, maybe she’d get Thor to kick his ass, too. ”What can it hurt?”

With great condescension, he sat and put his arms behind his back, his eyebrow lofted in an  _I gotta see this_ expression.

Darcy dragged the chair that she’d been sitting in beside the door.

"What are you gonna do, break the door open?"

Darcy stared at him balefully, then let out a blood curdling scream that had him wincing. She kept screaming until the lock turned, and one of the guys burst into the room. “What—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Darcy dashed him on the back of the head with the chair. He didn’t go down, but Bucky finished him off, then proceeded to make quick work of the remaining two.

When it was finished, Bucky looked duly impressed. Darcy tried not to preen. Much, at least.

"Where’d you come up with that?" he asked.

"A romance novel," she said haughtily. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she stepped over the first body, then thinking better of it, let him lead the way.

 


	31. sharknado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is not going to watch Sharknado. He's not.

Steve walks into the dimly lit common room. Darcy’s the only occupant, sitting in front of the massive TV with a bowl of popcorn in her lap. On screen, there’s a cyclone out on the water along with—were those  _sharks_?

“What are you  _watching_?” Steve asks before he can stop himself. Darcy looks up, and beams, her face illuminated by the tv and the orange glow from the overhead lights.

“ _Sharknado_.” While he’s trying to process that, she scoots and pats the couch cushion beside her. “Wanna watch with me?”

“ _Sharknado_?” Because really, he can’t quite believe that’s what just come out of her mouth.

 

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, don’t use that ‘Captain America is judging you and your life choices’ voice on me. It doesn’t work.”

“ _Sharknado_?”

Darcy grabs the remote and hits pause, the screen still displaying the sharks in midair. “It’s not what you think?” she says hesitantly. 

He snorts and flips on the light, and he can see her nibbling on her bottom lip. “I’m going take a wild guess and say it’s got something to do with tornados and sharks.”

“It’s better than it sounds.” She tilts her head to the side and wrinkles her nose. “Kind of.”

He leans in the doorway, staring at her in disbelief. Not that he knows much about Darcy’s entertainment preferences, but he’d just assumed she’d have better taste than that. Still… “You mean you’ve seen it once and you’re subjecting yourself to it again?”

“Yes,” she says baldly. Crossing her arms over her chest, she levels him with a look. “Do you have a problem with my movie choices?”

“It’s called  _Sharknado,_ Darcy. Doesn’t it seem a little unrealistic to you?”

She raises her eyebrows and settles back against the cushions. “When you went to the pictures with Bucky, were you the guy who sat back and shouted, ‘ _But monkeys can’t really fly_ ’ at the screen? I mean, you were born in 1918, and your merry band of crimefighting superheroes includes a dude who turns into a giant, green rage monster and an alien prince. Do you really want to talk unrealistic here?”

“Point taken. But I don’t know, doesn’t it seem a little bit… _silly_  to you?”

She blinks at him like he’s the one who’s buts. “Well duh. That’s what makes it entertaining. You should watch with me.”

He eyes the screen dubiously. “No thanks.”

She laughs and wrinkles her nose at him.  “Don’t tell me Steve Rogers is a movie snob.”

“I’m not gonna let you goad me into watching a dumb movie called  _Sharknado_.”

“Snob.”

“Give it up.”

She smirks. “Maybe we should call you something like Captain Snobbery. I’ll run that by Tony.”

He laughs and shuts the light off so she can get back to her film.  _Without_ him. “I’m not gonna watch this with you Darcy.”

“Snob.” She hits play, and he watches her for a minute as she enthusiastically shovels popcorn in her mouth and stares at the screen. He only means to look for a minute, but the next thing he knows, sharks are attacking a beach in Los Angeles, and he’s actually enjoying the damned movie in a wow-this-is-really-really-terrible kind of way—and he hadn’t even realized people liked stuff that way until he met Darcy. “You can sit, you know,” she calls out. He debates leaving, but she already knows he’s there. And he kind of wants to know what happens with these stupid sharks.

With a sigh, he sits down beside her. “I’m only here for the popcorn.” 

He sees Darcy shoot him a sidelong grin. “Whatever you say. Snob.”

 


	32. one night standoff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's not a fan of Darcy and Steve's constant bickering.

Bucky would like to think he’s got a decent reserve of patience, but right now he’d like nothing more than to press the mute button on Darcy and Steve. The mission is over, finally. It was more or less successful and Bucky would like nothing more than to fall into bed and rest. Except he can’t do that because Steve and Darcy won’t stop sniping at each other.

Bucky’s slept in shitty conditions before, and as far as safe houses go, the cramped and slightly decrepit studio apartment doesn’t even rank near the bottom of the list of the places he’s laid his head down. But listening to Steve and Darcy argue Is driving him out of his mind. It’s been like this the entire mission. They argued over Steve’s plan, Darcy’s choice of weapon, how Darcy did her research, Steve’s ability to act well enough to get them in to reach their mark. Hell, they even argued about what to eat for lunch. 

 

Usually, Bucky finds it amusing, because while Steve’s never been great with dames, Bucky’s never seen him this flustered or abrupt. Bucky can’t decide if it’s because Steve wants to kiss her or strangle her.

Right now they’re arguing over the bed, of all things. Darcy’s insistent that Steve take it because he was injured ( _barely_ , Bucky thinks with a scoff) while Steve is trying to tell her that she should take it because she’s the girl without actually coming out and saying the words “you should take the bed because you’re a girl.”

Normally it’d be kind of funny, but not at three in the morning, and definitely not while Bucky’s trying to get to sleep. The argument has been going on for half an hour and it shows absolutely no signs of letting up anytime soon.

Bucky sighs, turns over, and stares up at the cracked ceiling. He doesn’t have time for this shit. “Goddammit, SHUT UP.” 

That stops them mid argue; they blink at him like they’ve forgotten he was there which…they probably did. He pushes to his feet and glares at both of them. “You can both sleep on the damn bed for all I care. Just shut your pie holes.”

Steve, at least, has the grace to look apologetic. Darcy shoots a glare at Steve, and smiles sweetly at Bucky. “Sorry, Barnes,” she says innocently. “We’ll bed down as soon as Captain Macho Man here takes the freaking bed already. I can just sleep next to you.”

Bucky isn’t entirely certain, but he’s pretty sure that Steve actually  _growls._ “You’re not going to sleep next to him, because you’ll be on the bed, Agent Lewis. And that’s a direct order.”

Darcy throws her hands up in the air in frustration. “You can’t order me to take the bed. You—”

And the argument goes on again in earnest. WIth a groan, Bucky grabs his bag and grabs the thin pillow he’d been using. He slams out of the apartment, grumbling in irritation. He’s on his way out when a thought occurs to him, and he grabs the key to the apartment and a lock pick out of his bag and locks the door. Without any kind of grace or finesse, he shoves the pick in the apartment’s lock to keep them from opening up the door. Steve could just break the door down when they want to get out but at least it’ll cause them a few moments of frustration. It’s petty revenge but hey, he’ll take what he can get.

He steps into the cool night air and winds his way through the trees surrounding the property. He can hear the faint sound of traffic, the light thump of pulsing music in the distance, but at least he can finally close his eyes and sleep.

—

He wakes with the first touch of sunlight on the horizon, and he feels more refreshed than he has in weeks. Definitely more refreshed than he would have if he’d stayed in the room with the Odd Couple. He heads back into the safe house, knowing without looking at a clock that their transport is coming soon, so he supposes he’d better go get them up. He whistles as he heads back to the apartment, wondering idly which one won the battle of the beds.

The door’s still jammed when he gets back, and he wonders if either of them actually tried to leave. Considering he got a full night of sleep, Bucky decides he doesn’t actually care. He makes quick work of the lock, not bothering to be quiet about it since he’s definitely had more than one nap or night of sleep interrupted because of them. They can just deal with it. Of course, as soon as he walks in he realizes he doesn’t have to worry. He can’t see them in the living area, but he can hear them arguing. Already. Again. Still.

From the slightly breathless quality of Darcy’s voice, Bucky figures this argument must be a doozy. “You can’t win all the time just because you’re the goddamn captain.” 

“I’m winning because I’m right.”

“Not fair. You got your way last night.” Bucky grins. So Steve won that argument.

“I didn’t hear you complaining.” Bucky stops, confused for a moment because when Darcy loses an argument, there’s usually a hell of a lot of complaining. He gets the feeling that they’re not talking about the bed argument.

“I—“ Darcy’s argument is cut off by a long, drawn-out, feminine moan. Damn it, definitely not the bed argument. Which makes sense, because now that he’s stopped to listen, that’s definitely creaking bedsprings. Another moan, and Darcy demanding, “Fuck, I wanna be on top.”

He peers around the corner in time to see Steve’s naked ass and a flash of skin as Steve rolls, taking Darcy with him so she’s straddling him. All he can see is the smooth, creamy skin of her back and Bucky watches as she rides Steve, her head thrown back. Part of him wants to stay and watch, but he thinks better of it. Finally checking his watch, he figures he can give them twenty more minutes and he can’t resist calling out a warning to them.

“Our ride’s here in fifteen, hurry the fuck up,” Bucky shouts, pulling out of sight.

He hears a strangled, “Thank you” and he can’t tell if it’s Steve or Darcy. Not that it matters. He shrugs heads back out, whistling again as he sits in front of the door to wait for them.

 


	33. The $4.98 Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For my Romance Novel Title Prompts. The book the title is from is by Jo Leigh. I have no idea what it’s about. Also, this is a little ridiculous.

It figures, of course, that Darcy’s first time back in the city since Ben had died—way back before she even knew there was going to  _be_ a Ben Jr.—there would be an alien attack. Her experiences with them are few and far between—there was New Mexico and the attack a year later that took Ben’s life—but she knows enough to hold on tight to her baby and try to get the hell out of dodge.

 

“Mama, I’m scared,” Benny whispers as he clings to her, and she rubs his back soothingly. 

“It’s okay, honey, I’m gonna get us somewhere safe.” The police funnel the crowd into one of the older, sturdier churches in the city. Darcy eyes it dubiously, but there’s nowhere else to go and she hurries inside with Benny. She takes him into the center pews, underneath one of the sturdy arches and prays that it holds. She sings him songs and plays his favorite handgames while they wait out the destruction. One of the alien things bursts through the roof, just feet away from where Darcy and Benny sit. The thing rips Benny away from her, holding him hostage as it faces off against Captain America. Darcy screeches, jumping on it’s back. The thing holds on to Benny, but it shrugs her off as easily as it would a bug. She flies through the air, hitting a stone column. She sends up a quick prayer for her baby as everything goes black.

—

Steve cradles the little boy in his arms, hovering near the medics as they look over his mother. The kid, Benny, has been a trooper. He’d been scared for his mom, but he didn’t even make a peep as Steve took down the alien holding him. 

Now, Benny doesn’t look any worse for the wear as he pokes at Steve’s helmet, fascinated by the fact that Captain America is holding him. His mom doesn’t look so impressed, casting suspicious glances his way, but hey, he can’t fault her for that.

“Can we call your daddy, Benny?” Steve asks, wondering where the husband is anyway. The woman, the medics say her name is Darcy, has been awake for half an hour, more than enough time for the man to at least call. “So he can pick up you and your mom?”

The boy frowns. “I don’t got one. Mama said he died afore I was born. Captain ‘Merica, what do superheroes do?”

Steve’s a bit taken aback by the change in subject, but the little boy looks distressed, so he answers, “We help people. When we can.”

“Can you help me?”

Steve smiles at the kid and wipes a smudge of dirt off his nose. “What do you need, kiddo?”

The kid looks up at him, his little fingers picking at the collar of Steve’s uniform. “Can you help me find a daddy?”

Steve stares at the kid, open-mouthed. That definitely hadn’t been what he’d expected. “I—uh—that isn’t exactly…”

“Please?” Benny says earnestly, his blue eyes wide. “I have monies. Mommy told me to save it for something special. And daddies are special, aren’t they?”

Steve wouldn’t know, but staring down at the boy, he finds himself getting choked up. “Yeah, kid. Daddies are special. But sometimes there are things superheroes can’t do—”

“But I have monies!” Benny sounds distressed, and the woman, Darcy, sits up straighter when she hears his voice. She tries to get up but the medic pulls her back down. “I have $4.98 cents. I been saving my whole life. Please? Can you help me find a daddy?”

Steve rubs the boy’s back soothingly, rocking him gently like a baby, even though the kid can’t be any younger than four or five. “$4.98? That  _is_  a lot of money. But superheroes don’t ask for money to help people. And sometimes we can’t help everybody.”

Benny’s eyes well up with tears, and Steve’s heart breaks for him. He can’t think of anything else to say to him so he sys, “Okay, I’ll help you!”

The boy gives him a watery smile and throws his arms around his neck. “Thank you, Captain ‘Merica! You’re the best superhero in the world!” The boy’s mom finally manages to shake the medic, and hurries over to Steve and her son. The boy leans over and whispers in Steve’s ear. “You can’t tell my mommy, okay?”

Steve nods and pats him on the back, feeling a little like he’s been conned by the cutest four year old in the world.

The woman takes the boy out of his arms, and even though she’s tiny, she carries the kid effortlessly. “I’m Darcy Lewis. Thank you for saving my son. I hope he wasn’t a pain. You’re his favorite superhero.”

“He wasn’t a bother,” Steve says with a grin, because he does like the kid. He looks into the woman’s eyes, startled by how beautifully blue they are. She’s a pretty woman really, and he has to shake that thought right out of his head because she just survived being thrown against a wall. “You’ve got yourself a great son.”

The woman smiles, taking her straight from pretty and right to hold-your-breath gorgeous. He feels a little like he’s been sucker-punched. “He’s a good little goober, isn’t he?” She ruffles the boy’s hair and hugs him closer. “We should be going. But thank you again. For everything.”

“I’m just glad I could help.” He turns to Benny and tweaks the boy’s noise, making him giggle. He finds a scrap of paper and a pen, writes down the number for one of his cell phone lines. “And if you need anything, anything at all, you just let me know, okay?” He turns to see Darcy arching a brow at them. “That goes for your mom, too.” 

She smiles warily. “Thank you, Captain. 

She turns with a wave, and little Benny shouts, “Remember your promise!” 

 

Somehow he doesn’t think he could possibly forget. 

 


	34. The $4.98 Daddy (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly for blackglass, who's always asking for kid fic in general, and a follow-up to ["The $4.98 Daddy"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/674080/chapters/2031921) in the specific. Thanks to katertots, theladyscribe, and thekingarises on tumblr for looking this over for me!

Steve’s hunched over at his computer writing up a report on this last mission when a cell phone rings. It’s one of his, a private one, to which very few people have the number, so he doesn’t even look when he picks up with a terse, “Hello?” 

“Hi, can I speak to Captain ‘Merica please?” The voice is young, hesitant, as much of a whisper as a four year-old can manage. Probably because he doesn’t want his mom to catch him on the phone. Just like that, Steve’s paperwork-induced bad mood evaporates.

“Captain America speaking,” he says gravely, smiling into the phone. “How ya doing, Benny?”

The boy gasps. “How did you know it was me?”

“I’m a superhero,” Steve says with a grin. That, and Benny’s the only kid in the world with Captain America’s phone number.  Steve’s grin widens when he hears Benny’s whispered “wow.” “Are you doing alright? How’s your mom?”

“I still don’t have a daddy,” the kid blurts out. “It’s been lotsa days. Did you forgetted?”

Yeah, like he’d forget a kid asking him for a dad. And not a specific dad, just _a_ dad. It wasn’t the kind of request Steve got everyday. No way in hell was he gonna forget that. He’d just hoped that Benny had. The promise was made a month ago. Aren’t kids supposed to have short attention spans? Steve doesn’t know these things. As a superhero, it isn’t like there was much time to spend around kids when their lives aren’t in mortal danger. 

“These things take time, buddy,” Steve says carefully. Really, what else is there _to_ say? Especially when his mind is scrambling, trying to figure out how he’s supposed to do this thing. He knows he can’t make every wish come true for every kid, but he doesn’t want to let Benny down. Not after he promised.

“How much time?”

Steve can almost see the frown puckering the little boy’s face. The kid’s adorable. Demanding, but just really damned cute. Of course, the way Benny’s mother looks, it’s not entirely a surprise. Even coming out the loser in a battle vs. a stone wall, she looked beautiful. 

“There’s not really a hard and fast rule to these kinds of things,” Steve finally says. “You don’t want just any dad, right? You want a good one.”

“All daddies are good daddies,” Benny says, with all the innocent conviction of a four year-old.

Steve’s heart twists. “I wish that were true, bud.”

“It is true!” Benny insists. “Artie told me. Artie’s got two daddies. He knows lots.”

Before Steve can respond, he hears a woman’s voice in the background. “Benny,” she says, “are you talking on the phone?”

“No!” comes the quick denial from the kid.

“Right, and that’s why you’ve got the phone pressed to your ear.” Steve can hear the love and exasperation in the woman’s voice, and it makes him smile. “You know you’re not supposed to touch the phone.”

There’s rustling for a moment, and then the sound of little boy giggles. For a moment. Steve listens in, feeling a bit like a voyeur, like maybe he should hang up. “Benny, you’re really on the phone?” the woman demands. Then she’s on the phone.

“And just who is my son talking to?” the woman—Darcy Lewis, because he’s not likely to forget her either—asks into the phone. Her voice is slightly breathless, and there’s still giggling in the background. 

“I—uh—“

“It’s Captain ‘Merica, mommy!” Benny exclaims. He giggles some more, and Steve assumes that Darcy’s tickling the boy again.

“Right, and I just got off the phone with Iron Man.” There’s the exasperation again. She’s all business when she says, “Who’s this?”

Steve clears his throat nervously. “Actually, I _am_ Captain America.”

“Lord help me, my son is calling lunatics.” The words are muttered and muffled, like maybe he wasn’t supposed to have heard her. But then she’s back, loud and clear. “Look, mister, it was nice, and slightly creepy, for you to play along for my kid, but I don’t want him talking to strangers. Especially not ones with delusions of grandeur.”

He knows he should just take the out. Apologize and hang up and no one would be the wiser, but he just can’t make himself do it. “I really am Captain America.”

“Seriously dude—“

“I rescued your little boy last month and looked after him while the medics took care of you. You looked at me like I maybe I was a serial killer.” For some reason, he smiles at the memory. “I gave you and Benny my number. In case you needed anything.”

“You didn’t—Well…shit.” Steve wants to laugh at how stunned Darcy sounds. “Oh God, can I say ‘shit’ to Captain America? Is SHIELD gonna come after me?”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” he teases, half a second before the latter part of her statement registers. “You know about SHIELD?”

A long pause, then, “Nope. No. Not a damn thing.”

“One more no might have been more convincing.” Steve’s more than a little intrigued. He makes a mental note to look into Darcy Lewis. After all, he’s supposed to be finding her kid a dad. But before he can probe her statement further, his official work phone beeps. “Looks like you’re off the hook for now. Duty calls.”

“Alien attack?” she asks, sounding alarmed.

“Worse. Staff meeting.” He ends the call to the sound of Darcy’s laughter. 

—

“What have we talked about with the phone, young man?” Darcy demands, glaring at the little boy resting on her hip. He’s mastered the angelic look, and Darcy’s ashamed to say she’s fallen for it more times than not. 

Benny snuggles into her and says, “Sorry,” so sweetly she’s tempted to give in. Not this time, though. Rules are rules, and even Benny’s four year-old butt has to deal with it. 

“You can think about it after your nap, when you’re missing playtime at Artie’s.” Artie was the five year-old next door. Artie and his parents were the first people Darcy and Benny had met the day they moved in, and from that point forward, Benny had declared Artie his “bestest friend forever and ever.” Taking away playtime with Artie was the worst punishment ever in Benny’s mind.

Benny pulls away, his little mouth open in indignation. “But mommy!” he starts to say.

Darcy cuts him off. “Rules are rules, mister, and you gotta follow them.” She gives a silent shudder, because she’s pretty sure her own mother repeated a similar refrain throughout…well, throughout her entire childhood and adolescence. Actually, she heard her mother say something like that to her last week.

Behold her future.

Benny’s eyes well up with tears, but Darcy holds her ground. “Nap time, bub.” 

She carries him into his room, his pitiful sniffling accompanying her all the way. A year ago, that would have been enough to change her mind about taking away playtime, until her mom had taken her aside and said, “You know he’s faking this, right?”

Sure enough, the sniffles stop once he’s tucked under the covers.

He’s after something different now. “I wan’ a story!”

“Nap time.”

“Story!”

Lord, her son is demanding. Adorable, but demanding. Benny’s face scrunches up, the sure symptoms of a tantrum. Darcy knows she shouldn’t, but she sits beside him in bed and cuddles him against her side. 

_Please don’t let me turn my kid into a brat_ , she prays, even as she says, “Okay, what story do you want to hear?”

“I wanna hear about my daddy.” Suddenly, Darcy can’t seem breathe around the lump in her throat. It’s been nearly five years since she lost Ben. She doesn’t grieve, not like she used to, but there are moments where the loss hits her right in the gut, and the place in her heart that belongs to Ben and always will. And when Benny asks about him, that’s when it hurts the most. And the older Benny gets, the more he asks.

She hugs Benny a little tighter, swallowing hard. “Your daddy was probably the best man I’ve ever met. And he would have loved you more than anything in the whole world.”

Today she tells Benny about how Ben had always dreamed of being a firefighter, how he was always driven to help people. She doesn’t talk about the day the Chitauri descended on New York City. One day, she’ll have to, she knows, but for today she regales Benny with the tale of how his daddy saved her life once upon a time.

Her little boy’s eyes are struggling to stay open when she brings the story to a close. “Sleep, baby,” she says, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Mommy?” he asks, his voice heavy with beckoning sleep as Darcy brushes the hair away from his face. “Was daddy a superhero?”

Darcy smiles. “He didn’t have super powers, but he was a hero.”

“My new daddy should be a hero, too,” he says drowsily. 

He falls asleep before Darcy has to respond to that. New daddy. God, in the last five years, she hadn’t even gotten that far. She’d been too focused on growing up, on her baby, on how to support said baby. There hadn’t been much time for dating—although she’d done it once or twice—and she hadn’t even thought of a “new daddy.” 

She won't let herself think of that now.

She has a new job to worry about, a new home and a new city to settle into. And above all, she has her baby to take care of. She and Benny, they've gotten along just fine without a man in their lives. 

**Author's Note:**

> Also, I guess I should mention that my tumblr is the-yellow-ranger so if you want to prompt stuff then feel free! Or do it here, if you're so inclined! Thanks for reading, everybody!


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